


Falling

by scofflaw



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Real Person Fiction, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Comic-Con, Eventual Romance, F/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-03-09 06:42:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 49,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13475874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scofflaw/pseuds/scofflaw
Summary: An accident during a typical day in comic-con leads to an unforeseen whirlwind of events in your life. Can your sanity handle it?





	1. A Girl and Her Spazzing Out

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER:
> 
> Hi! Unfortunately, I haven't actually experienced going to any comic-con in my entire life. So what I wrote is mostly derived from my overactive imagination and my impressions from fans who have gone to one. Feel free to correct me about the actual protocol in these events. 
> 
> Actually, feel free to comment and let me know what you think in general. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Credit to: @a_burners from Twitter for the photo of Seb writing on Tom Hiddleston's face (lol)

                             

 

 

 

“Yes, I locked my luggage AND my room. Yes, I called Uncle Owen and told him my flight details. Yes, I have eaten lunch. No, I didn’t get lost or anything. Yes, I still have money on me. Yes, I have everything that’s important with me.” I told my mother in answer to her litany of questions, half in exasperation and half in fondness. It was the second day of Wizard World Con and the third day since I arrived in Missouri. Ever since I got settled in my hotel, my mother has called to check up on me every now and then since this was my first trip I went on by myself. It was sweet at the first two calls but when more followed, I kind of felt frustrated at my mother’s fussing. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that as a grown woman I have my shit together but I AM old enough that I can handle travelling on my own. “Oh, shit. Sorry mom but I have to go, the line’s moving already. I think I’m second to the next in line.” The reprimand in her voice was unmistakable when she only replied, “Language.” before ending the call with the reminder to update her my whereabouts as well as to call her once I got back in my hotel room. I smirked to myself as I placed my phone on my pocket, picturing my mother’s frown at my course language. It has been her frustration since I was a child that she could never curb my tendency to curse. Her belief that it was just a phase ended when she was called by my homeroom teacher in 4th grade due to an incident in our music class involving me saying motherfucker out loud because I missed a beat while playing the recorder.

 

With nothing left to do after ending my call with her, I glanced around the hallway where hordes of fans like myself are lining up for the photo op happening in the next room. I looked up and smiled to myself when I saw the large tarpaulin hanging on top of the entrance, showing a collage of photos of the same man sporting varied facial expressions and film costumes. The name, Sebastian Stan, was printed across the lower half of the tarpaulin, right under a picture of him as the Winter Soldier. The excitement that I was feeling since this morning seemed to triple upon seeing this sign, proof that I am just a few feet away from the very man himself. To be honest, this photo op was the reason why I went to this convention in the first place. The fact that I would get to finally see him up close and in person in a matter of minutes is just making me giddy even more.

 

When a production assistant popped her head out of the blackout curtain separating the room from the hallway to call out the person in front of me, I bit my lower lip and tried to control the erratic beating of my heart. Just a few more minutes, then it’s going to be me inside.

 

Holy.

 

Fuck.

 

Is it possible to die of excitement?

 

Breathe, moron.

 

**Breathe.**

 

Just be chill and relax.

 

It’s just a hi – hello, then a photo.

 

No big deal.

 

Just a normal photo with him, right next to you.

 

All of a sudden, I remembered all the photo ops of Sebastian that I saw on Instagram and Tumblr. Photos that was either funny or intimate. Should I request something like those pictures? Is it going to be boring if I just asked for a normal photo? What is even a **normal** photo in these kinds of photo ops? Should I do something funny? Or romantic? The latter being an attempt to actualize a fantasy of mine in relation to him. Fuck. I knew I should have thought this through more carefully. Is asking for a back hug too much? I don’t think so? I think a fan already requested a photo like that from before. The **REAL** question is can I handle a back hug from him? Jesus. I’m making this too fucking complicated. I should just look up those photos, maybe then I could get some idea on what the hell I want to do while I still have time.

 

I was too engrossed browsing pictures on my phone that I didn’t notice the production assistant popping his head out once more to address me this time. The guy behind me decked out in a Thor costume had to nudge me from the back, just so they could grab my attention. “Hi, you’re up next.” The production assistant said as he pulled the curtain on one side to let me through. I inhaled sharply and let out a shaky breath as I followed his lead. I stepped through the room before I lost my nerve and immediately gave the room a cursory glance. The room was brighter than I expected it to be and there were only a handful of people with us inside the room. Most of the production assistants and the event organizers were congregated behind the photographer and his crew, who were busy adjusting the lighting inside the room. And there, right in the middle, stood Sebastian Stan in all his glory.


	2. A Girl and Her Clumsiness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit: photos for Padme's costume as well as the idea for the photo op is linked on the texts.

The first time I ever recall taking notice of Sebastian Stan was during the peak of Gossip Girl’s popularity back then. My best friend in particular was a huge fan of the show to the point that she’d take the time to show and inform me about what’s new in Gossip Girl. Frankly, I wasn’t much of a fan of the TV series. The novelty wore out pretty quickly by the time Season 2 came out and I was more focused on watching sitcoms than anything else. The fact that I barely knew his character’s name says a lot of what I remember about his story arc in Gossip Girl. All I knew was that his good looks ran parallel to how much of a douche he is on the show. At least, from what I can remember of it.

 

The film that really made me notice him though was the first Captain America film with Chris Evans. Which is unfortunate, now that I think about it (he was in The Education of Charlie Banks!!! How could I not remember??? **I LOVED THAT FILM**!). At the time, I was more into Chris Evans than him but I remember being really fond of his character, Bucky Barnes. I wouldn’t say he stole the show per se, but his story definitely tugged at my heartstrings and I felt so horrified when he got killed off in the end. In hindsight, I think reading so much fanfiction about Bucky, as well as how his story arc unfolds in the subsequent Captain America films contributed to how much I got so invested in the character he played. What really made me start harbouring a crush on Sebastian Stan though (the actor, not his character), was when I watched an interview with him and Anthony Mackie. I didn’t really know much about Sebastian as an actor then (aside from his stint in Gossip Girl), and what I did see from those interviews with Mackie made me like him. Aside from the superficial reasons (six-foot tall + striking blue eyes + luscious dark hair + his toned physique = one gorgeous Romanian), it also doesn’t hurt that I found Sebastian’s dry humor (at times bordering on self-deprecating), lack of propensity for other people’s bullshit, and kindness to be insanely attractive.

 

I could go on really, just listing why I have a huge crush on him. However, said gorgeous Romanian is just a few feet away from where I’m standing. I doubt I’d get to even finish that list seeing as his very presence is driving me to distraction. It’s seriously disheartening that all he needs to do is stand there while he checked his phone, and I’d still be rendered a complete weak-kneed mess. I swallowed thickly and diverted my gaze from him just so I could get my shit together. I looked towards to the crew for any signs on what I should do but all I got in return were bored expressions, waiting for me to make my first move so they could proceed to the next person in line. Great. I’m on my own then.

 

“Oh, hey.” My breath hitched when I heard an all too familiar voice greet me. My head whipped from the crew towards Sebastian’s direction. I was greeted by the sight of him pushing his hair back with one hand and one corner of his lip lifting into a small smile. “Sorry about that. I just got a text from Mackie.” I nodded mechanically at his explanation, still not managing to muster the courage to speak. “Thanks for coming. I hope you didn’t have to wait that long.” His lips blossomed into a full-blown smile, his eyes crinkling at the corner when I finally managed to stutter out a reply. “It’s, uhm fine. I’m used to long lines anyway.” He gave out a nod in reply before stepping back and making room for me to stand near the marker made by the photographer. As soon as I neared his spot, Sebastian gave me another encouraging smile and was about to say something when our attention was drawn by a man poking his head through a door at the other end of the room. “There he is.” Anthony Mackie said in a sing-song voice, as he fully stepped inside the room. “My man! You looking fine today.” Anthony grinned mischievously at Sebastian who greeted the other man warmly as they gave each other what I can only call as a bro-hug. “I thought your schedule isn’t until tomorrow?” Sebastian asked Anthony curiously while the latter was busy greeting the rest of the people inside the room. “Got in a few minutes ago, thought I’d drop by and check on you. Damn son, that’s SOME line out there.” Anthony smirked at Sebastian who could only shake his head in embarrassment. “People lining up to see Sexy Seabass. Hang on, did you guys start already or are you just about to start? Cause I wanna crash his gig.”

 

“We’re in the middle of it.” Sebastian replied, giving Anthony a nudge by the elbow to direct the latter’s attention to me with a wave of his hand. “I was just about to ask her name when you came into the room.” I gave out a sheepish smile and a small wave when both men directed their attention to me. “Hey. I’m Y/N.”

 

I don’t know whether to laugh out loud or feel scared when I saw how Anthony’s eyes lit up at the sight of me. I’m positive though (with every fibre of my being) that I am going to be thoroughly embarrassed at whatever he’ll say next. “Damn, girl. You looking good.” And cue the red ears. “Is that a costume?” Anthony asked as he looked at my outfit closely. “Uhm, yeah. It is.” I admitted with a slight grimace. “Wait! Don’t tell me. I wanna guess who you’re dressed as.” With a sigh and another shake of my head, I opened my arms and said, “Let me have it.” Both Sebastian and Anthony’s eyes widened at my comment and I belatedly realized that what I said may have another implication. “Fu – you know what I meant. Get your minds out of the gutter, please.” Sebastian and Anthony looked at each other and made a face as if to say, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Both men obviously trying to suppress their smirks from showing but thoroughly failing at it.

 

“Just guess.” I muttered, mentally berating myself for my big fat mouth. After this, I noticed to my amusement that both Sebastian and Anthony got so engrossed in figuring who I am dressed as for the convention, my double entendre completely forgotten.

 

“Definitely one of ours.”

 

“No, it can’t be. No one wears white in any of our movies.”

 

“You forget, we just got the X – Men back. You gotta include them too.”

 

“No. Not them either.”

 

“STORM! SHE’S DEFINITELY STORM!!!”

 

Sebastian opened his mouth to respond, squinted at me for a bit, and then shook his head with a purse of his lips. “Maybe Emma Frost? I don’t think it’s Storm. The outfit doesn’t check out. Maybe something related to space cause she got the boots on?”

 

“That doesn’t make sense. Just cause she’s wearing-“

 

“Actually he’s getting warmer.” I told Anthony who was pointing at said boots, cutting him off mid reply. “If it’s from space, it’s got to be either Star Wars or Star Trek right? I only saw those two.” He told Sebastian, the two of them getting absorbed once more in this guessing game. “You’re definitely not from Star Trek. Cause you ain’t wearing those dresses they wear on the ship.” Anthony concluded with a satisfied nod as he mulled over his answer. Sebastian meanwhile rubbed a hand across his lips, deep in thought, before stating simply. “Are you [Natalie Portman](http://www.rawsolla.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/10/Diy-Padme-Costume-to-inspire-you-how-to-make-diy-Costumes-look-surprising-1.jpg) in Star Wars?” Anthony and I looked at him simultaneously: me, impressed at the fact that he guessed it correctly, and Anthony, in disbelief. “Natalie Portman was in Star Wars?!”

 

“Yeah.” Sebastian and I answered at the same time. “She was Anakin’s wife in the movies.” Sebastian said as an explanation to which I added, “Her character’s name was Padmé Amidala.”

 

“Still, you look good girl.” Anthony told me with a smile and an approving nod. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” I retorted good-naturedly at his banter. “Who knew the Falcon could clean up this good?” Apparently this was the right thing to say as Anthony started exclaiming to the rest of the crew that he’s definitely crashing my photo op with Sebastian, the protocols be damned. “You don’t mind, do you?’ Sebastian asked me as Anthony continued making his case to the production assistants. “Naw, I’d be a moron to turn down this opportunity. It’s like I’m in the home shopping network.” At this, I started mimicking the voices in the home shopping network whenever they pitch another exclusive buy. “Pay now for a photo op with Sebastian Stan, and we’ll throw in Anthony Mackie on set. For Free! Call now, while the offer still lasts.” It turns out that having Anthony Mackie nearby was just the thing I needed to get over my nerves at having this photo op with Sebastian. His excitement and energy was so infectious that I made that crack of him joining our photo without thinking. I only realized that I said it in the first place when Sebastian burst out laughing (in that adorable way of his) and Anthony cried, “This day only! Call now!”

 

Finally, the person in charge of facilitating the photo op relented to the Mack Attack and let Anthony join us for our picture. Whether or not he’ll stay on for the rest of the photos with the other fans were still up for debate. “Perfect Latte for Y/N, served with steaming hot Chocolaccino and creamy Vanilla Ice!” Anthony called out as we were herded back to the marker placed at the center of the room. “Oh my god.” I said in disbelief, snorting and laughing intermittently with Sebastian as Anthony made wisecrack after wisecrack about Sebastian and himself. When our laughter died down and Anthony ran out of quips, Sebastian asked me what I wanted to do for our pose. Unfortunately, my fat big mouth decided to have a life of its own once more and I found myself saying, “Is it okay if you both [lift](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/BrE9DbuCYAE9CX6.jpg) me up?”

 

“No!” I cried before they could acquiesce to my first request. “Actually, forget about it. It’s a bad idea. Just a photo with me in between you two is fine.” The two men furrowed their eyebrows at my comment. “If you want to be lifted, it’s not a problem. We’d be glad to do it.” Sebastian said with a grin. Anthony in turn flexed his arms and bragged, “Honey, you see these guns? Chocolaccino’s got you.” Conscious of the fact that I’m not exactly a lightweight, I said, “Are you guys sure?” to which both men gave their confirmation. By the time my photo was to be taken, I found myself being held up high by Sebastian and Anthony with the former carrying my top half and the latter, the bottom half. It’s even a wonder I even had the presence of mind to grin stupidly at the photographer, knowing that all I could think about was the fact that they were holding me up in the air. I could feel the telltale signs of my heart beating rapidly and as soon as the photographer gave us the all clear, I tried to quickly jump away from their arms so that they don’t have to hold me up any more than they have to. Unfortunately my move combined with Sebastian and Anthony both trying to lower me to the ground carefully led to me not landing on my feet properly. It was too late when I realized that my foot had slipped and twisted. I only had enough time to brace my fall with my wrist. Sebastian and Anthony tried to grab me from my fall but it happened so fast and the searing pain from my wrist made me realize that something went wrong.


	3. A Girl and the Falcon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to: MCM ComicCon for Anthony's photo

 

My right hand automatically cradled my left hand and I couldn’t help the whimper I let out from passing through my lips. I felt a hand wrapping around my shoulder to raise me up to a sitting position and I gasped when I saw clearly the swelling and bruises blooming across my left wrist. My thoughts were so consumed from the pain that I barely heard Mackie ordering one of the production assistants to call 911.

 

“Hey, it’s not your fault.” My eyes flashed to concerned blue eyes and it was only then that I realized that I’ve been continuously babbling apologies in the haze of my pain. “It’s gonna be alright. The medics are coming. We’ll get that taken care of right away.” As he said this, Sebastian carefully manoeuvred our bodies so that he has one arm wrapped around my shoulders as my side leaned against his front. “Do you think you could stand? So we can move you to a chair?” He asked me quietly but the wince I gave when I tried to lift myself up was enough to clue him that I couldn’t do it by myself. I doubt that I can stand up by myself even without the pain coming from my wrist with how much I’m shaking. He looked up and the small nod directed at the chair by the corner was enough for Mackie to figure out what Sebastian was asking him to do. The older man hurriedly grabbed the chair and settled it near Sebastian who wrapped his free hand below my knees before standing up carefully. His grip on me tightened slightly when he heard the low whimper that escaped my lips. “I’ll just settle you in this chair, okay?” Sebastian murmured quietly as he carried me to the chair Anthony brought closer to us. He slowly eased me towards the chair and Anthony was standing opposite Sebastian to catch me if ever I topple over. I closed my eyes tightly once Sebastian let me go and concentrated on my breathing to ignore the pain that would shoot up from my wrist.

 

“The ambulance is on its way.” A woman told Sebastian quietly. “But the organizers had the medics they hired for the event to go here already. They can perform first aid on her while we wait for the ambulance. They won’t be long I’m sure.” The woman’s voice faltered slightly, then, “We can’t stall any longer Sebastian. We need to continue with the photo op.” I looked up at her words just as Sebastian’s eyes quickly darted to my hunched form. I was filled with embarrassment when I heard this and even more so when Sebastian tried to ask for a few more minutes. I felt so bad and guilty, seeing as all activities inside the room halted due to the accident. Both Anthony and Sebastian stood nearby, with Anthony coordinating with the production assistants on the whereabouts of the nearest hospital and Sebastian giving instructions to the others while we wait for the medics. It was obvious that both men wanted to make sure that I was taken care of before the medics arrived. Luckily, it didn’t take long until the paramedics strode inside the room from where Anthony came from. One of them approached me and assessed the extent of the damage on my wrist. They immediately brought out the tools needed to create a makeshift splint as well as a compression wrap to control the swelling. Once they were done conducting first aid, two from their team left the room to fetch the stretcher as another asked me basic questions about my medical history and what transpired before they arrived. It barely registered to me as I answered the medic’s question the conversation that Anthony and Sebastian were having behind me. That is, until Anthony stepped up to the medic asking me questions, to inform him that he was coming with me to the hospital. “Are you with the patient?” The medic asked. “Yeah, I was with her when the accident happened.” Anthony replied with a jerk of his head to my direction. The medic gave a small nod towards Anthony before he gave out instructions to the two other medics who came back with a stretcher. Within a matter of minutes I was lifted from my seat and settled as carefully as possible on the stretcher to avoid causing further damage to my fractured wrist. As I was strapped in to the stretcher, Sebastian stepped up to my side to give me an encouraging smile. “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine. Anthony is riding with you to the hospital.” He told me reassuringly. “I’ll drop by once I’m done here and check up on you.” I felt my cheeks redden at his statement but before I can say anything, the medics hoisted my stretcher up and I was promptly carried out of the room with Anthony trailing behind us.

 

Getting carried out on a stretcher after idiotically falling on my wrist minutes after meeting Sebastian Stan and Anthony Mackie is pretty high up on the list of the most humiliating experiences of my life. And as fate would have it, the longest one too, seeing as Anthony Mackie has taken it upon himself to see that I get to the hospital safely. Not a production assistant. Not an intern. Not an events organizer. Not even his manager, but him, personally. Luckily, the area that we passed by as we headed to the exit was deserted and the people with me were the only witnesses to the humiliating results of my actions. When we got out of the building, we were met halfway through by the paramedics from the ambulance of the nearest hospital. The two groups of medics did some sort of turn-over before they transferred me to another stretcher and lifted me up to board the back of the ambulance.

 

In all this commotion, I tried to talk over everyone just to tell Anthony that the medics will take it from here. “Thank you so much for seeing me off. You didn’t have to, but I really appreciate it!” I called over to him as he watched me get strapped in to another stretcher. “It was really great meeting you today and I can’t wait to see how the photo came out. Wouldn’t it be funny if the photographer caught me mid-fall? Ha, ha.” I laughed awkwardly then winced when my left arm got slightly jostled as they lifted me up. “Please tell Sebastian thank you and that it was great meeting him finally. You guys are the best!” Anthony watched all this in amusement, arms crossed in front of his broad chest. “Easy there.” He warned the medics as they eased me inside the back of the ambulance. “Thank you again! They’ll take it from – Oh.” I tried to hedge in another thank you and give him an out from taking me to the hospital but even before I could finish my sentence, I watched in wide-eyed wonder as Anthony easily hauled himself inside the back of the ambulance after me. The ambulance doors were shut close after him and I was still gaping at him like a fish out of water when the ambulance drove off of the convention area. “You’re not supposed to be here.” I pointed out dumbly while watching Anthony make himself comfortable. “Yet, here I am.” He pointed out to me, lips tilting into a small smirk. “You can’t really expect me to leave you on your own to fend for yourself. We don’t even know if you were with somebody back at the convention.”

 

“Yes. You -” I stammered, at a loss for words. “- definitely can. I’m surrounded by medics. They’re more than capable in handling these kinds of situations, right?” The medic at my left just flicked his eyes between me and Anthony before resuming what he was doing in silence, measuring some sort of medicine that would help with my pain.

 

Thanks for backing me up, Dr. Drake Ramoray.

 

NOT.

 

I tried to reason out once more to Anthony by saying, “I’m sure you have something better to do than babysit a fan who idiotically fractured her own wrist during a photo op.” but this was still done in vain. “Seb can hold the fort while I’m gone. Besides,” He levelled a look at me, and his voice brooked no argument. “- my schedule’s not till tomorrow. I told you, Chocolaccino’s got you. Are you honestly going to kick me out in the middle of the road?” Now that he mentioned it, any attempts of him going back are more or less a futile attempt on my part seeing as he’s already inside the ambulance with me. I can only sigh and accept his logic begrudgingly. “No.” I mumbled to him shyly. “Thank you. Again.”

 

“Don’t mention it. Accidents happen. Let’s just get you sorted out, okay?” Anthony replied with a pat to my nearest leg. For awhile silence enveloped the back of the van, the medic going through the motions of connecting me to an IV and giving me a low dosage of pain medication. After this, Anthony would ask me random questions about myself to distract me from my fractured wrist as well as to ease my discomfort until we got to the hospital.

 

“So, where are you from?”

 

“New York. Um, Brooklyn.”

 

“What do you do for a living? Still a student?”

 

“That, is very flattering of you to say. Ow. Sorry.” This apology was directed at the medic who gave me a warning glare for moving. “I won’t squirm that much anymore. I own a coffee – slash – bookshop actually. It’s called, _The Nook_.”

 

“Nice. How long have you had it?”

 

“For a couple of years already. If you’re ever in New York, you should totally drop by my shop. Your coffee and food is on me. Ari makes the best lemon squares.” I blinked at the casual offer I made, knowing full well that I would never had the guts to make it without liquid courage. “Yep. The meds are kicking in alright.” Anthony chuckled at my startled and slightly drugged out state. “But the offer still stands right?” He asked me good-naturedly with a cock of his head. “Cause a brother ain’t going to turn down free coffee and food.”

 

“Of course!” I replied emphatically, the meds making me more confident and far more talkative. “And it’s a life time offer. Walk in any time and every thing is for free. But only one free drink and pastry or else, I’m going to die. No! I’ll go bankrupt first, THEN my assistant will kill me, and then I’ll die. You have a pretty smile.” Anthony grinned and shared an amused look with the medic at my random spiel. However, I found myself not being able to concentrate on my surroundings any longer. I began to feel drowsier, my mind getting hazy. My eyelids were feeling so heavy and in a matter of minutes the drugs lulled me to a deep sleep.

 

The next time I woke up, I was met by the sight of bright fluorescent lights and by the sound of someone humming beside me. I looked to my right and saw my cousin seated at a chair by my right, her attention focused solely on the laptop on her lap. “Reggie?” I croaked, my mouth and throat dry from lack of use. My younger cousin looked up from what she was doing and merely said, “Good. You’re up.” before returning her attention to the screen. I tried to sit up but my body still felt sluggish from being asleep for such a long time and eventually gave up with a huff. “What are you doing here? How long was I out?” I asked her when she didn’t give any indication of being helpful, at all, despite my attempts to sit up. “The hospital called your mom about your accident since she’s your emergency contact person but since your parents couldn’t get on any flight here, she called Dad and asked us to watch over you until you get out of the hospital. Anyway, we got here just in time before you were wheeled in for your operation.” She darted a sideways glance at me. “You haven’t been knocked out for long. The doctors said that they had to operate on you as soon as possible to avoid any further damage to your wrist. That was just two days ago.” At this, she cocked her head to the side and gave me an inquisitive look. “By the way, you have a lot of explaining to do with my folks.” My brows furrowed at what she said but before I could ask her what she was talking about, Reggie continued talking. “There were like two guys hanging outside your room when we got here. And one of them said that they got you the suite when you were admitted in the ER. They left you like huge ass bouquets before they left.” I gaped at Reggie before my gaze followed the direction she was pointing at, and there on my left, sat two wonderful flower arrangements. I stared at the beautiful flower arrangements in stupefied amazement, squashing the thought immediately that they came from who I thought they were from. It could have been any two guys from the convention, like the productions assistants inside the room where I fell. I highly doubt that Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan got me a suite and waited outside till my relatives arrived for my operation, let alone take the time to buy me these gorgeous bouquets. “Oh, and they left you this too.” Reggie added belatedly, making me whip my head to where she was seated only to come face to face with a get well soon card she thrusted to my face. I raised my right hand and plucked out the card from her fingers, ignoring her raised eyebrow at my excitement. I gingerly opened the card and couldn’t stop grinning as soon as I saw what was inside. Two photos were taped haphazardly on top of the card and below it, were two messages written by Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan. I ripped out the photos carefully from where it was taped with my right hand and raised it to see it better. The first photo was the photo op I had with the two of them that actually turned out REALLY well just as I’d hoped and the next photo turned out to be a picture of the two of them giving me two thumbs up. I set aside the two photos and picked up the card to read the small messages they left me.

 

 _It was great meeting you Y/N! I hope you get better soon and thanks for coming this weekend! – Sebastian Stan (_ written below his signature, in Anthony's handwriting was _, "AKA Vanilla Ice/ Sexy Seabass")_

_I hope you get better soon, Y/N! You haven’t seen the last of me, I’m holding you to your promise of free coffee and lemon squares. Don’t worry, I’m going to drag Sexy Seabass with me. Get well soon girl! – Anthony Mackie AKA Chocolaccino/ Mack Attack_


	4. A Girl and Her Surprise Guests

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit: found the gif of the three on Google Images, can't track who made it so if you know to whom I can credit it to, please let me know :D
> 
> Note: Jonathan was a character born out of my love for Gina Linetti of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. When I was writing him, all I could think about was what her reactions would be if she was in that particular scenario hahahaha

Several months passed after my accident. I stayed momentarily with my Uncle Owen and his family for two weeks until I was given the clear by the doctors that I could fly back home to New York. Only a handful of people know what happened during my trip and I also decided against posting the photos I received from Sebastian and Anthony. I felt that it wasn’t really necessary for me to broadcast what happened to the world, not that I have any relevant presence on the internet to begin with. I did bring home with me the bouquets that they sent me which I hung upside down above my mantle to preserve them. The card and photos on the other hand were framed and put on display on one of my shelves. Aside from those items, only the cast on my left hand was left as a reminder of my stupidity during my photo session with the two actors. Thankfully, I didn’t really dwell too much on this fact since as soon as I landed back home, I was kept busy by my coffee/ bookshop, the Nook. Jonathan, my assistant manager, was left in charge during my absence and though he did an amazing job while I was gone, there were still some issues that I had to personally deal with once I got back.

 

Currently, I’m finishing up arranging the display out front for the new book releases we received from our supplier. It was mid-afternoon, and the shop was pretty quiet save for the noise coming in from the kitchen as well as the sound of our coffee machine. As expected since we don’t really have much foot traffic inside the shop after lunch. However, this peace and quiet didn’t last long. As soon as _Back in Black_ by AC/DC started playing on the shop’s sound system, I figured out who took over the playlist. I don’t blame Jonathan though cause this song is fucking awesome and it’s not like there were many people inside the shop so the break from the jazz music I was playing wasn’t that much of an issue. Besides, the people that were in the shop were patrons who are more than familiar with our random song selections. It doesn’t hurt that I love dancing to this song so I didn’t make any complaints to my assistant manager as I danced my way from across the shop towards the counter.

 

“Now this is my kind of place!” Someone called out behind me and I whirled around, eyes wide in shock at the three very familiar men entering my shop. They were very familiar, since I was just watching their interviews last night on my laptop with a tub of popcorn. I gaped stupidly as Anthony Mackie sauntered up to where I was standing with Sebastian Stan and Chris Evans trailing behind him. “What’s a man gotta do to get some free coffee and lemon squares around here?” He asked me in greeting with a congenial smile. “Excuse me?” Jonathan asked behind me, voice dripping with venom making me hastily turn back around to face Jonathan and stop him from saying anything more damaging. “Shush! Shush!” I waved my hands in front of Jonathan who batted my hands irritably. “I promised him free coffee after I fractured my wrist!” Realization dawned over his face and he eyed the three men from top to bottom. “I guess it’s not just leg day they’re skipping then if they can’t even hold you up properly.”

 

“That’s not –“ I stammered in embarrassment but it was too late as Jonathan already lost interest at the present conversation by cutting me off with a, “Mmm. I don’t care. My fine ass and I have better things to do. Byeeee.” I scrunched up my face in annoyance and slowly turned to face Anthony, Sebastian, and Chris with a grimace. “I’m so sorry about that.” I pushed back some loose hair that escaped my braid and gave them a sheepish smile. “Welcome to the Nook! How can I help you?”

 

“This is a very nice place Y/N. Although you might want to work on your skills in giving directions.” Anthony replied with a laugh. “It took us several minutes before we figured out that the directions you gave us was completely wrong.” I stared back at them in confusion. “I did? I gave you directions to this place? I only remember telling you I owned one.” Sebastian’s mouth made a small, “Oh.” with a furrow of his eyebrows. “No wonder it was wrong. She was totally doped up on drugs when she gave them to us. Remember? She was being prepped for surgery at that time?” He told Anthony who also seemed to just realize what Sebastian meant. Chris merely laughed at the two of them and reached out a hand to me to introduce himself. “In hindsight, we should’ve really just looked it up online. Hi, I’m Chris, Chris Evans.” I bit my lip and let his large hand envelope mine into a firm handshake, hastily withdrawing it from his grasp before he notices how clammy my hand was. “Y/N.” I cleared my throat awkwardly. Unfortunately for me, this was the moment when my brain to mouth filter decided to take a break as it always did during socially awkward episodes, and I started rambling non-sense. “Right, so free coffee anyone? I know I promised only Anthony but the offer is available to anyone. Not anyone. I meant you two. I would go broke if that was available for anyone. I might as well hand out coffee outside, right? So, coffee! We got like loads of selections. Also, pastries! Everything tastes awesome cause Ari made them. He’s our pastry chef, of course. Who else would I hire to make our pastries? A sous chef? Ha, ha. Right. Um, I’m shutting up now. You were saying?” The three guys shared a look after my rambling and by some mutual agreement, Chris was the one who next replied to me. “Uh, we’d gladly have whatever you recommend and pay for it as well.” He added with a smile directed to me that has not made my heart hammer a thousand miles per minute. Nope. Not at all. “Oh, no. I promised Anthony free coffee and a pastry even in my drugged up state. The offer stands and it also extends to both you and Sebastian. It’s sort of my way for thanking you about the entire thing. Uh, how does a flat white paired with our triple chocolate brownies sound?” I suggested with a bite of my lip, wondering to myself if offering my favourite coffee-brownie combination was a bad idea. “Yeah, sounds good to us.” Sebastian replied, directing his signature lopsided smile at me. And yep, my heart just went to overdrive. “Feel free to sit anywhere. I’ll just get your order.” The three men gave me a nod and a smile before they looked for a good place to sit. As soon as their backs were turned away from me, I hightailed from the counter, signalling Ian to take over for me, and dove inside the shop’s kitchen. “Holy shit.” I gasped out loud, hand over my heart. “HOLY. SHIT.”

 

“Y/N?” Ari, called out to me worriedly. He leaned down to peer at my face, to check what was wrong with me. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

 

“Ari. Anthony Mackie, Chris Evans, and most important of all, Sebastian Stan is outside. At my fucking shop! Holy shit.” At the puzzled look he was sporting, I gave him an incredulous look. “Seriously? Falcon, Captain America, and the Winter Soldier from the Marvel Movies??? Ring any bells?”

 

“Oh, those guys you were always mooning about.” Ari replied with a nod of his head in understanding. “I do not moon about them.” I retorted hotly but Ari merely gave me an unimpressed look in reply. “Whatever. The fact of the matter still stands that I’m freaking out. I did not see this coming. Help me.”

 

“Didn’t you say that you offered one of them free food and coffee? Why wouldn’t you see this coming? Who turns down free food and coffee?” Ari questioned me in disbelief. “That’s cause I didn’t think he’d actually take me up on that offer! They’re all loaded. They don’t exactly need free food, least of all from me.” I cried in a panic. “Oh my god. What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?!”

 

“Did they order anything?” Ari asked me helpfully as I paced in front of him in a frenzied state. “Yes!” I answered in relief, halting mid-step and facing my pastry chef as I rattled off my recommendation to him. “Three orders of flat white coffee and three orders of our triple chocolate brownies.” At this, Ari brought out three plates and took out a tray of freshly baked brownies from the oven. I started at him dumbly as he started cutting up the brownies but was shook from my trance when he dutifully pointed out to me that I also have to make their coffees. “Go, I’ll take these out once I’m done.” He told me with a nod towards the kitchen door. Without further prompting, I went back out to the shop and headed straight for the coffee machine. I wilfully ignored the rest of the shop to avoid causing myself further embarrassment, directing my sole focus on making the three most perfect cups of coffee in my entire life. Ari walked out a few seconds after me with a tray laden with plates of brownies that were more than our usual serving size. I glanced up at Ari who just winked at me before returning back to his kitchen. I soon finished up with the coffee and I called out one of our waiters, Jaime, to help me serve the coffee and brownies to Anthony, Sebastian, and Chris.

 

My heart stopped when I finally realized that they were sitting at my section of the shop. The inquisitive look Jaime gave me as she passed by me was enough to shake me from my momentary spazzing out. I followed after her and carefully set down the cups of coffee I prepared right in front of them. I opened my mouth, fully prepared to wish them a great stay when Sebastian looked up at me with those cerulean eyes of his, effectively making my throat close up in my nerves. “Do you mind if you sit with us for a bit?” He asked me politely and it dawned on me that he could’ve asked me anything and I would’ve gladly offered it to him on a silver platter. No questions asked. “Yeah, why don’t you join us?” Anthony added. “We did come here to see how you were doing. Not just the offer of free coffee and pastries.” I opened my mouth to decline but a quick glance around the shop showed me that I could spare a few minutes with them considering that I’d probably hit myself if I let this opportunity pass just because I was a stuttering mess. “Sure, why not.” I answered shyly, carefully setting down the tray I was holding on the table next to them. Sebastian stood up when I returned and pulled out my chair for me, making my cheeks flush at his kind gesture. After a few beats of silence where no one said one word, Anthony picked up his coffee to take a slow sip of the drink. “Try eating the brownie.” I suggested, which Anthony just did after my comment. I grinned proudly when his eyes shot wide and uttered a satisfied groan. “Damn.” He remarked in surprise. “That’s a good combination.”

 

“Definitely.” Chris muttered, with a mouthful of brownies. “The brownie balances the bitterness of the coffee. It’s really good.”

 

“Thank you.” I bit my lip to keep myself from grinning too widely and watched them, as they tasted more of my favourite combination. “So how’s your hand?” Sebastian asked curiously, wiping the corner of his mouth with a napkin. I raised my left hand that was still wrapped tightly in a cast as I replied, “It’s alright. It doesn’t really hamper with any of my work but I’d be glad once they take out the pins on my wrist.”

 

“That must’ve been some fall.” Chris commented with a sip of his coffee. “I heard about it from these two. They feel really bad by the way.” I looked at Anthony and Sebastian in slight reproach at what Chris just said. “They shouldn’t. If anything it was my fault. I was too impatient to go down and ended up tripping on my feet, then stupidly bracing my fall with my left wrist. Besides,” I added, directing a grateful smile at the two men across from me. “- you guys really went far and beyond with what you did. My cousin told me you stayed after I got checked in until my uncle’s family arrived. Which you didn’t have to, but I’m grateful that you did.”

 

“It was nothing. I told you, Chocolaccino’s got you. I’m sorry we couldn’t see you after your operation.” Anthony told me with a small grimace. “Yeah, I had to fly back to New York for an audition.” Sebastian said as a way of an explanation. “And I was called in by my contractor about an issue with this house I was flipping.” Anthony added. “Dude, it’s fine. You didn’t have to stay as long as you did, but you still did it. What more could a girl ask for? Totally worth the 100 dollars I paid for my photo op with Sebastian. That was some VIP shit.” I replied which made the three guys roar in laughter. “Man, I keep forgetting that happened during a fucking convention.” Anthony remarked in between his laughter. “Oh, did you get the flowers and the card we sent you?” Sebastian asked me curiously. “I did. Thank you. They were really lovely, and the photo came out great!”

 

“Right?” Anthony cried with a hand pointed at me. “To be fair, you were right when you said it would have been funnier if the camera man caught you mid fall. But, still a great photo.” Sebastian gave you and Anthony an incredulous look. “That would’ve been horrible.” He said with a laugh. “I could just imagine your face and Mackie’s face seeing her fall from your grasp.” Chris pointed out to him with a smirk. “We were actually freaking out about it. Cause one moment we were lowering her down the floor and then bam!” Anthony clapped his hands loudly. “She was there, on the floor, cradling her fractured wrist. Man, that was some crazy shit.” Anthony shook his head fondly. “I’m just glad the medics arrived just in time.” Sebastian remarked as he brought his cup of coffee to his lips. “No one in that room knew what the fuck we were supposed to do.”

 

“But you guys were great! You even helped me up from the floor.” I pointed out to him. “Still, I was relieved when the medics finally did some first aid on you. I can’t imagine how painful it must’ve been for you.” He replied with a smile.

 

“As much as I want to play it off, I know you saw me ugly crying about it so yeah, it was painful as fuck. But it’s sort of fine now.” I shrugged my shoulders in a non-committal manner. “Like I said, I just can’t wait for the pins to get taken out.”

 

“How long did they say until it gets taken out?” Chris asked me curiously. “They said it depends on how fast I’m recovering but it might take a few more months from now. I don’t really mind since it hasn’t really been an issue at the shop. I’ve been able to do stuff around here even with the cast on, surprisingly.” I looked down at my left hand and wriggled the fingers on my lap in reflex to check that I could still move it. “I really love what you did to this place.” Anthony commented as he surveyed the entire shop. “Did this place already have an open floor plan when you got it?” He asked me curiously. “Actually, yes. This used to be an Italian restaurant a few years back and they already had an open space. I just hired some contractors to do some work for the bookshop half of the place.” I nodded towards the rows of bookshelves on our right. “And also some renovation work upstairs.”

 

“And the tables and chairs?” Anthony inquired with a nod to the table in front of us made out of steel and acrylic with a drawer containing a selection of books. “The tables were designed by my dad and my brother has a friend who customizes furniture. The chairs were just something I bought from a shop.” The three men eyed the acrylic table top displaying my book selections for this month which Sebastian asked about inquisitively. “It’s not just display. All the tables have a selection of books inside their drawers. Employees in the shop have a section of tables assigned to them. I had them place around three to four books of their choice inside each drawer that the customers can check out while they’re having their coffees. We’re at my section so these books are my personal favourites.” I explained to him, excitement seeping into my voice as I talked about the one thing I love the most in the world, books. “So what’s your recommendation?” Chris inquired, looking closely at the titles displayed inside the table. “I see the Goldfinch by Donna Tartt. I approve.” He smiled at me with twinkling blue eyes. “Jenny lent her copy to me and it was a fantastic read.”

 

“Right? It’s a mammoth of a read but totally worth it.” I grinned at him, happy to know that Chris liked at least one of my book picks for this month. “I also have Vagina by Naomi Wolf in there as well as Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind by Yuval Noah Harari. The other tables on my section have different book selections but I can’t remember them for the life of me.” The three of them glanced at the tables I indicated and after this, I noticed Sebastian pushing his chair away from the table, most likely trying to look for the access to the drawer. I looked down on my side and saw that it was just in front of me. “Do you want to check out anything in particular?” I murmured to him with a nod to the centre of the table. He gave me a sheepish smile and said, “I actually wanted to see the Goldfinch.” I pushed my chair away from the table as I opened the drawer, and then took out the book he asked for. I handed the paperback to him which he accepted with a quiet murmur of thanks. I tucked a piece of hair behind my ears and directed my gaze away from Sebastian as he flipped through the book in his hands. I faced the opposite direction only to be met by the sight of Chris and Anthony deeply immersed in a conversation about football that goes over my head completely. Apparently that brief exchange with Sebastian was enough for the two to become distracted from our present conversation.

 

Not that I mind. Not really. I just suddenly feel out of place sitting at the same table with all three of them, unsure as to how I even got myself here in the first place. I’m sitting WITH Chris Evans, Anthony Mackie, and Sebastian Stan in MY OWN SHOP, serving them coffee and brownies. What. The. Fuck. I would be so fucking ecstatic right now if not for the fact that I know my awkwardness can ruin it any moment. Initiating easy banter with other people has never been my forte, what more in a situation where I can easily find myself tongue-tied with the very people I fangirl about on a daily basis? I did fine so far, but what’s to say my filter won’t disappear on me? Again? I should really make my retreat while I can still save face. I glanced behind me only to see that it was still a slow day for the shop with nothing to grab my attention and excuse me from this awkward situation. Granted, I am the boss and I can probably lie through my teeth about some problem that came up but I’m too much of a stammering mess to make up a believable lie at the moment. So the age-old excuse of going to the ladies it is Y/N. However, before I can make my excuses, Sebastian glanced back at me from the passage he was reading and asked, “Does the Barbour’s really adopt Theo?” Cerulean eyes waiting expectantly for my reply, lips tilting into a small smile. I blinked at him momentarily until I found my gut and voice to answer his question with a question of my own. “Do you seriously want me to spoil the book for you? You’ve barely even begun.” He gave me a shrug as he braced his forearms against his thighs, his hands still idly rifling through the pages of the book. He looked up at me expectantly with a teasing smile, and yep, I just died and went to heaven. “I am… not, um,” I cleared my throat to cover up the fact that one smile from him is enough to render me speechless. “- I’m not going to spoil the book for you. But, they don’t adopt him. And that’s the only thing I’m telling you.” I pointed out to him firmly when I noticed that he was about to ask another question. “I will not rob you the pleasure of this reading experience. That, sounded so wrong on so many levels. Jesus. Sorry.” He grinned at my comment, eyes lighting up in humour. “I get what you mean. So I won’t ask you any more spoilers.” He pushed his hair back with a hand as he looked back at the book in his grasp. “I’m actually really curious to see what happens to him, now that you’ve told me the Barbour’s didn’t adopt him. I thought that they took him in based from what it says in the synopsis. Is this your copy by any chance?”

 

“Oh, no. Mine is back at my place. That book’s for sale if you want it. Not that I’m trying to pressure you into buying anything. Just that you can.” I pressed my lips tightly as I internally winced at how stilted I talked around Sebastian. Sadly, my embarrassment doesn’t end there when I suddenly found myself saying, “Actually, you can have it. It’s on the house. If you want, I can grab you a new copy instead of that one.” which made him look at me incredulously. “Stop. Stop giving us free shit.” He told me with a laugh, eyes crinkling at the sides in his amusement. “You’re already treating us to free coffee and brownies which isn’t necessary to begin with. Now you’re me giving this book for free?”

 

“I want to.” I told him sincerely. Now that I’ve made the offer, I find myself honestly wanting to give him the book for free. Regardless of the fact that Jonathan may skin me alive for doing so. “You guys have been really sweet to me. Looking out for me during my accident, then now checking up on me several months after it. It’s the least I could do. I’d offer Chris and Anthony free books as well but I don’t know what they’d like. I have 50 Cents’s book with Robert Greene on hand, do you think Anthony would like that?” Sebastian was about to reply when Chris spoke up next to me. “I’m sorry to cut this short but I just got a text from our casting director. She wants to see me about this shortlist of actors that could play the lead in my movie.” He said by way of explanation as he stood up, shrugged on his coat, and drank the rest of his coffee. “We’ll go as well.” Anthony added apologetically, standing up after Chris along with Sebastian. “We’ll get out of your hair. We’ve kept you long enough from your customers and I think one of your employees is glaring at me.” I looked at the direction he was staring at and flipped off Jonathan who was giving me a pointed look. “I’m so sorry about Jonathan. I should really record myself saying that.” I commented absent-mindedly, knowing that it’s a phrase that will come up pretty soon in the future if Jonathan is involved. “Thank you so much for visiting me and actually taking up my offer.”

 

“I told you, a brother ain’t turning down free food and coffee.” Anthony pointed out to me with a wide grin before he approached me, arms open for a hug. I bit my lip shyly and stepped up to his hug, arms around Anthony’s waist as he squeezed me good-naturedly. As I stepped away from him, it was Chris who followed up Anthony’s hug with one of his own. “It was night to meet you, and I hope the pins on your wrist get taken out soon.” He told me warmly as we pulled away from each other. Then it was Sebastian who came up to me next, thanking me for the book and coffee before wrapping his arms around me securely. By this time, I was positive that my face and ear were as red as a tomato after the hugs I’ve gotten from the three of them. I crossed my arms across my chest and rocked back on my heels, unsure of what to do with myself after those hugs. “Thank you again for seeing me. You didn’t have to come all the way here.” I said to them with a sheepish smile as I followed them out of the shop. “If you’re ever in the vicinity, our shop is always open for you.”

 

“Oh, you’ll definitely be seeing more of us soon.” Anthony called out to me over his shoulder with a toothy grin and a wink before climbing inside the car Sebastian parked near my shop right after Chris got inside the passenger’s seat. “I’ll see you around.” Sebastian called to me with a large smile, waving the book I gave him in goodbye as he slid inside the driver’s seat of the car. I stood in front of the shop and watched as Sebastian drove his car away from the curb. I went back inside once they were gone from my line of sight and mechanically walked back towards the counter. Jonathan was now standing behind the counter instead of Ian and he raised an unimpressed eyebrow at me as I neared him. I stared dazedly at the black granite countertop before sinking slowly on the chair behind the counter. “What the fuck just happened?” I whispered to myself in astonishment, not really comprehending what just took place a couple of hours ago. “Flushing my money down the toilet is what just happened.” Jonathan intoned to me in a deadpan manner. “Your money?” I retorted incredulously, effectively distracted from the daze that I was in. “Aren’t I the owner of this place?”

 

“You may be the owner of this place, but bitch, I own you.” Jonathan replied pointedly with a smirk. “Now I need you to sign some forms in your office for some supplies I just ordered.” I opened my mouth to begin replying to Jonathan’s command but decided against it, seeing as I’d just be going in circles if I continued arguing with Jonathan. Instead, I stood up from my seat and headed straight for my office to do just as he asked (I refuse to admit I was being ordered around by my own employee). Hopefully the comfort and solitude of my office can help me wrap my brain around to the fact that I was visited by none other than Chris Evans, Anthony Mackie, and Sebastian Stan with a promise of dropping by once more in the foreseeable future.

 


	5. A Girl and Her Spring Day Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to: 
> 
> \- Getty Images for the photo of Seb jogging  
> \- Pinterest for the photo of Seb eating

                   

 

And just as Anthony said, it was not the last I saw of the three of them. That first visit to my shop turned out to be what would set off a series of visits from the three actors. I initially thought that their random visit to my shop was a one-time thing, which I made peace with after a rather therapeutic session of doing our shop’s inventory after they left. It turns out that I was far too hasty in making that assumption. Over the course of the following weeks after that first visit, Anthony, Chris, and Sebastian have stopped by, at times together and at times by their own.

 

The first person to come in at the shop again was Anthony. I didn’t immediately notice him when he came in because as usual, the shop was packed so early in the morning. I was busy ringing up the coffee order of the sleep deprived grad student in front of me, that I didn’t recognize the man standing behind him. When I finished up with the grad student, I welcomed the next customer with our standard greeting, absent-mindedly reaching for a mug for their order.

 

“Hi, welcome to the Nook. What could I get you?” I asked the next customer with a smile. “A latte and some of those sugar cookies, sugar.” Anthony replied with a grin when he saw my mouth drop at the sight of him. To say that I was shocked to see him in front of me once more is a complete understatement. I stared at him in surprise, thinking to myself that I was daydreaming again for a split second. When I realized that he was still standing in front of me – despite the awkward silence stretching between us for more than a few seconds – I snapped out of my daze and promptly rung up his order. As much as I wanted to chat with him at that moment, Jonathan was still on his break and the rest of my staff were too busy accommodating other customers to cover for me. Luckily, I was able to sate my curiosity at his appearance when I had a brief moment to talk to him when he picked up his order. In that short-lived conversation, Anthony told me that he was in town for two more weeks because of an audition. He also told me that he was staying at a nearby hotel and hinted that he’d drop by the shop in the coming days before he leaves.

 

After that day, Anthony would visit the shop to chat with me whenever he could or buy a cup of coffee to go before he swans off to another meeting. During the times that we got to chat, I learned a lot about Anthony’s life as he talked about his family and personal projects. We bonded over our mutual love for HGTV and his evaluation of what I can do to improve the shop’s interiors better. By the time that he had to fly out to New Orleans, I found myself being added to his contacts (Anthony added to mine) as well as promising Anthony that I’d keep in touch with him.

 

Chris was the next one to visit my shop to my astonishment. When he next dropped by, he was with a small group of people from the movie that he was producing and directing. Like with Anthony, I didn’t notice that he was in the shop because the person who ordered for their group was a colleague of his and not Chris. I only found out when I served their coffees to their table and was met by a grinning Chris, standing up to help me unload the cups of coffee from my tray. When the last cup was set down, Chris gave me a side hug (!!!!) as he asked how I was before introducing me to the rest of the people with him. Up till now, I’m not sure if Chris noticed just how stiff with shock I was when he hugged me. I’m pretty positive that the rest of his team did since they were as awkward as I was when he introduced them to me one by one. Can you blame me? Even though Anthony has visited the shop a handful of times already, I didn’t really expect that Chris fucking Evans would as well. It’s not everyday that I’d have actors strolling in to my shop for their pre-production meetings.

 

Anyway, I didn’t mind how awkward I was being since Chris completely made my year by what he admitted next. He told me in an undertone that he convinced the rest of his team to conduct their pre-production meeting at the Nook instead of anywhere else because he loved the ambiance and the coffee of my shop so much. “It also doesn’t hurt that you guys serve the best triple chocolate brownies I’ve ever tasted.” He added to me with a laugh, blue eyes lighting up in humour. I can’t even begin to describe how flattered I felt when he admitted this to me. Captain America just told me himself that he loves our coffee and brownies.

 

Captain freaking America!

 

I know that Chris isn't really Captain America in real life, but still!

 

That’s why whenever Chris and his team would come in for their meetings; I would automatically have Ari serve them his freshly baked brownies along with their usual order of coffee. You know, nothing but the best for Cap.

 

Aside from using my shop as his meeting place, Chris would frequent the Nook for a decent cup of coffee to take with him to god knows where. We would get to talk here and there but one thing that he never failed to do was to greet me with a side hug and his usual question of, “How’re you doing?” which is just the sweetest thing. I can’t deny how happy I am at the prospect of often being greeted this way by none other than Chris Evans himself since he told me that he’d be staying in the city for several months until they wrap up with production. And with that, several more visits from Chris for his usual cup of coffee. I am of the mind right now that I must have done something right in my previous life because I cannot be this lucky by pure chance alone.

 

Although Chris may be on his way to becoming a regular at the shop, Sebastian Stan has already surpassed him by a long shot. That’s because Sebastian IS already a regular at the Nook with how often he comes by ever since that first visit. This fact alone has Jonathan in stitches because of how embarrassing I am whenever Sebastian comes in to buy a book or a cup of coffee. For some reason, with Anthony and Chris, I can muddle through a conversation with little to no problems at all. But for some reason all semblance of sanity or coherence flies out through the window once Sebastian engages me in a conversation.

 

The first time it happened was when he struck up a conversation about the Goldfinch as I was making him a flat white. Thankfully, I didn’t fuck up his order but I did burn myself slightly as I steamed the milk at the coffee machine. I’m not going to even deny that the reason why that happened was because I was distracted by his presence. To be honest, I was distracted the moment he strolled inside the shop and headed towards the counter where I was standing. It was just downhill from there. As much as I want to say that it was the first and last time that happened, it wasn’t. That’s why Jonathan now would have other people take over from me the moment Sebastian comes in the shop instead of risking me burning my fingers in my distracted state.

 

Or worse, end up breaking our expensive coffee machine in my distracted state.

 

Now, my only problem is how terrible I am whenever a conversation is initiated between the two of us whether it is by my own or his doing. Granted, that only happens at the start of the conversation because surprisingly we never run out of topics to talk about once we get going. But still, will there be a time when I actually manage to engage in a conversation with him without sounding like a spaced out idiot at the beginning? We’ll never truly know.

 

At any rate, I should really learn to curb my spazzing whenever Chris, Anthony, and Sebastian would come in to the shop. Not only is it embarrassing, I really don’t want to give Jonathan more ammunition to use to annoy and tease me when he’s in the mood. I'm also kind of getting the impression that I'll be seeing a lot of them in the future and it won't do if I freak out every single time it happens. 

 

BUT, that’s something that I’ll unnecessarily stress over for another day because today is all about _me-time_. It was totally a good call to take my day off today instead of putting it off for another day. As tempting as it was for me to just stay in and sleep the day off, I’m glad I went out. Spring in New York is the best and it would be bordering illegal if I just wasted it, staying cooped up inside my apartment. As soon as I saw how lovely it was outside, I got up, showered, and donned my favourite baby blue summer dress. With a chunky tote bag slung over my shoulder containing only my phone and wallet, I stepped out of my apartment and went straight to one of my favourite places in New York, BOOKTHUGNATION.

 

And after a satisfying trip in Williamsburg for some second-hand book shopping, I’m now aimlessly walking around Brooklyn with no destination in mind. Something that I don’t always have the luxury of doing with the shop dominating most of my time and attention ever since it opened. I rarely get the time to just be and do something spontaneous like this.

 

With my nose buried under my recently purchased copy of Kerouac’s On the Road, I was internally debating with myself whether I should really look for a place to eat (I forgot to grab something to eat in my excitement to go out) or see how long I could last until I can’t ignore my hunger anymore. I was so engrossed with what I was reading (while thinking about food) that I didn’t immediately hear someone calling my name from behind me.

 

“Y/N!”

 

“Y/N!”

 

When it finally registered to me that someone was calling my name, I looked up from my book and glanced behind me to see who was calling my name. And there, jogging my way with a smile lighting up his face, was Sebastian. He was a few feet away from me and in the brief time it took Sebastian to reach me, I managed to take in what he was wearing (head-to-toe Under Armour running apparel) and think to myself how luscious his hair looks tussled like that from his jog. But apparently, even though my mind was able to register all that information in, it was still unable to string together a coherent sentence once Sebastian was standing right in front of me. “Y/N! I thought that was you. How’re you?” Sebastian asked, smile blossoming into a full-blown grin. “I was actually planning on going to the Nook this afternoon. Funny that I’d see you during my morning jog. Running errands?”

 

“I’m hungry.” I stated blankly to him in reply, screaming hysterically inside my head at the ridiculous response I gave him. His brows shot up at this. “Oh, are you on your way to eat?” He asked politely but when cerulean eyes took in my bulky tote bag, he added, “Farmer’s Market?” My eyes followed the direction of his gaze and I couldn’t help but snort out a laugh when I realized how ridiculous I must appear to him. “Sorry.” I told him apologetically with a slight grimace of my face. “My mind is all over the place. I was thinking about food while reading when you called me. Actually, I just came from BOOKTHUGNATION to buy some books.”

 

“You do remember that you own a book store yourself?” Seb asked me, amusement lacing through his voice. “How many did you get? You look as if you cleared out the entire store.”

 

“Ha, ha. Very funny. It’s just a couple of books.” I rolled my eyes at the teasing grin he shot my way. “Just because I own the Nook, it doesn’t mean that I own the books in there as well. It’s my fucking living. I’d end up broke if I just hoarded the books at my shop. Besides, BOOKTHUGNATION has one of the best collections for second-hand fiction books so I kinda let my freak flag fly. Um, what about you? What are you doing in these neck of the woods?” Heat crept up in my cheeks when I remembered that he already told me what he was doing in Brooklyn when he caught up to me but Sebastian didn’t seem to mind repeating himself and said, “I was out jogging this morning at the Brooklyn Bridge Park. Actually I was on my way to grab something to eat when I saw you. Since you said you were hungry, do you want to eat together?”

 

“Um, uh – are you sure?” I questioned him, thrown off by his sudden invitation. “I – I don’t… I don’t want to impose.”

 

“If anything, I’m the one imposing on your time.” He told me wryly. “If you’re not doing anything, I know this great place that makes the best risotto in the city.” I blinked up at him, still surprised at his invitation to eat out. I am sorely tempted to decline Sebastian’s offer, the “No, thank you.” just at the tip of my tongue. I can already picture in my head the numerous ways I could fuck this up with my awkwardness and my poor stilted conversational skills. But then again, I did promise to myself that I would curb my spazzing out when it comes to him and that’s what I’m doing right now. I should really stop putting the guy on a pedestal and constantly overanalysing my every interaction with him. I’m sure he gets more than enough of that from other people already. It’s just a meal. How weird could I be?

 

With this, I made up my mind and told him, “You had me at risotto.” with a grin of my own before asking him to lead the way so I can’t chicken out from my choice. “Great. I’m parked nearby. Do you need help with that?” He asked my with a nod to my massive tote bag. “Oh, this? No need, it’s not that heavy anyway.” I told him with a shrug but Sebastian would not have it. He held out his hand to me expectantly and merely looked pointedly at my left hand still covered in a cast to prove his point. I levelled a gaze at him then slowly smiled with a shake of my head as I relinquished my bag to his outstretched hand. “Thanks.”

 

“No worries.” Sebastian replied, lips tilting into a lopsided smile that slowly turned into a teasing one when he shouldered my bag. “A couple, huh?”

 

“Fuck off.” I laughed with a wag of my pointed finger in front of him. “You were the one who offered to take my bag from me, not me.” I followed Sebastian as he began walking towards his car while he peeked at the contents of my bag. “That, I did. I was just surprised at how hefty a couple of books are nowadays. What’d you get anyway?”

 

“Well, this one.” I waved the Jack Kerouac book on my hand. “And I also got some classics there, a book on poetry, The Salmon of Doubt by Douglas Adams, and oh! I got What’s Your Number, the one with Chris on it.”

 

“Seriously?” Sebastian’s eyes lit up and he dug through my bag to see the very book I mentioned. He laughed out loud when he saw Chris on the cover of my book with Anna Faris. “Oh man, you should definitely show this to him when you next see him.” At this, we came to a stop in front of a sleek car and Sebastian unlocked his car so we could get in. “Do you think he’d flip out when he sees it on display on my section?” I mused out loud as I reached for the passenger side’s car door but Sebastian beat me to it, swiftly opening the door for me without missing a beat. “He’ll more likely find it funny.” Sebastian mused out loud. “Careful, your dress might get caught.” He warned as he closed my side of the door firmly before walking around the car to the driver’s side. He slid in the car and leaned against the centre console to carefully set my bag at the back seat. We fastened our seatbelts, then Sebastian seamlessly pulled out from his parking space and eased in to the morning traffic of Brooklyn.

 

A comfortable silence enveloped us as he drove with only the low hum of his car’s sound system filling the car. Morning light streamed through his car’s windows, tree branches casting a shadow every now and then across the car’s hood. I smiled wistfully at the passing scenery before returning my attention to the book I was holding. I opened the book from where I last left off and I was once more immersed in the words of Kerouac, barely noticing what was happening to my surroundings. Several minutes passed with us driving in this manner until we reached the restaurant. Embarrassingly enough, it took me awhile before I was distracted from the passage I was reading. I only became aware that we arrived in our destination when Sebastian opened the car door and called my attention. “Y/N, we’re here.”

 

“Sorry.” I told him sheepishly as I unbuckled from my seat and turned around to reach for my bag. “Do you want to leave your stuff at my car?” He asked me as I stepped out of the car. “Or I could carry it for you?” I looked down at my tote and decided to just bring my wallet and phone with me. Sebastian closed the car door after I returned my bag inside, then ushered me towards the quaint restaurant. Luckily, there weren’t a lot of people at this hour so we had the luxury of choosing where to sit. “It’s nice out. Do you want to take a table outside?” I asked him with a nod towards a vacant table by the entrance of the restaurant. He smiled and gave a nod to the server who directed us to our seats. I smiled in thanks at our server, Nathan, when he pulled out my chair for me while Sebastian took a seat across from me. Nathan brandished two menus for us before leaving us to peruse them while he got us each a glass of lemon infused water.

 

“What are you – what?” Sebastian asked me after awhile, throwing me a weird look when I just shook my head slightly in response with a purse of my lips. “What’s so funny?” I shook my head slightly and ignored his curious look as I took a sip from the water that Nathan just set in front of me. At the eyebrow he cocked, I gave up and admitted to him what I found so amusing. “Nothing, I just realized something.” At his expectant look, I let out a semi–dramatic sigh. “Do you remember those moments when you’d see your teacher from school outside of class? Like when you’d see them hanging out at a mall with their friends or at a bar. It’s weird right? As if your brain can’t fathom that they’re there.”

 

“Yeah, I guess?” He hedged out slowly, not entirely sure where I’m getting at. “I’m kind of getting the same feeling right now. It’s so weird to hang out with you outside the shop.” I finally admitted to him sheepishly. “It’s not THAT weird. It’d be weird if we barely knew each other but I’m like a regular at your shop already.” Sebastian pointed out to me, eyebrows rising up to his hairline. “Yeah but we only talk about books. I don’t know it’s just weird for me to see you in such a different environment.” I sat up straighter in my seat and toying with the basket of bread in front of us. “Like imagine if you met a fan of yours that you’re pretty familiar with cause you remember them from some convention you were in. And you suddenly hang out with them in a completely different setting. It’s weird right?”

 

There was a brief pause after I said this where Sebastian and I just stared at each other before we burst out laughing. Of course he doesn’t have to imagine being in that situation, he’s already in it, with me being that fan of his. “So, is it still weird?” He asked me in amusement after I calmed down. “Still weird. But I’ll get over it. Anyway, don’t mind me. What were you going to ask me?” I grabbed a rye roll from the breadbasket and tore a piece to pop into my mouth.

 

“I was going to ask what you’re having?” He repeated, eyes taking in the various menu items in front of him. “I actually started craving risotto when you mentioned this place, so maybe that and a salad. What about you?” Sebastian scanned the menu with a furrow of his brows before replying, “Do you want to split the salad? I kind of want to order one as well.” He grabbed a rye roll for himself, tearing it in half, then spreading a liberal amount of butter on it before taking a bite from it. “I might just get the egg spinach toast.” When we settled on what salad to split, I called Nathan over to take our orders that he promised to serve in a matter of minutes. In his wake, Sebastian turned to me and picked up our conversation once more. “I’m assuming since you’re not at the Nook that today’s your day off from work?” I gave a nod in response, swallowing the rye roll I just took a bite off before responding. “Yeah, all of us agreed at the shop that we’d have two days off for each week but the rule is we can’t take it consecutively. Unless, you know, it’s an emergency.”

 

“So what do you do when you’re free? Aside from clearing out the stocks of your competition, of course.” I snorted at his teasing comment. “Nothing exciting, that’s for sure. I’d either sleep the day off, – and I am eternally grateful that sleeping is not a commodity, or else I would be under MORE debilitating debt than I already am – maybe watch a movie or tv series, aimlessly walk around my neighbourhood, go out for a drink if there’s an occasion, or dine out with my friends. Before, I really wanted to go and see the shows on Broadway but I’m too lazy and I don’t have anyone to go with. I’d go on my own but my parents are worried enough about my lack of socializing skills whenever I go to the movie theatres by myself.” I looked up from the breadbasket we were slowly demolishing as we waited for our food and tossed back his question at him along with a warm raisin bread. “What about you? What do you do when you’re not shooting?”

 

“Same as you.” He answered after giving it some careful thought. “Except that I sometimes go to the gym or go on morning jogs. It helps me clear my head.” I made a face when he mentioned jogging and made Sebastian chuckle when I added, “Ew. Jogging.”

 

“I take it you’re not a fan?” He asked with a smirk. “Oh, I don’t mind exercising but I really, really detest jogging. Not to be crude or anything but you don’t know how irritating it is to jog with boobs. It’s like jogging with weights tied to your front, bouncing up and down in the process.” I grinned cheekily at him when Sebastian slightly choked from the water he sipped due to my offhand comment and the mental picture I conveniently gave him. “What?” I asked him innocently when he mock-glared at me, shaking his head in mild reproach. “ANYWAY,” He stated firmly, trying to rear back our conversation to a much more normal topic just in time as Nathan neared our table carrying our orders. “- thanks Nathan - you said that you want to watch more shows on Broadway?”

 

“Hmm.” I replied distractedly as I was busy getting the both of us servings of the prosciutto salad. When I eventually offered him his serving of the salad, I was about to answer his question but his phone, ringing and vibrating on top of the table, cut me off. His eyes flashed up to me apologetically. I merely just waved him off and picked up my fork to dig in while he answered whoever’s calling him on the other line. “Hey, man.” He greeted, a smile forming on his lips. “Yeah, I’m still with her. What? You think I’m lying?” I looked up at Sebastian quizzically, wondering if I was what he was pertaining to with the other person on the line. Sebastian mouthed, “Mackie” in response to the look I directed at him and I gave him a nod in understanding. He must have mentioned to Anthony awhile ago that I was with him without my noticing. They began talking amiably on FaceTime while Sebastian and I ate, making me smile at how they would mock each other one moment then genuinely ask how the other is doing next. To be honest, I wasn’t really fully paying attention to what they were talking about. I was too busy being fully immersed on the risotto that I just took a bite from. Sebastian wasn’t kidding when he said that this is one of the best in the city. I feel like I’m cheating on my one true love (aka Lorenzo’s truffle cream pasta), it’s that sinful. Unfortunately, the moment I was sharing with my risotto was cut short when Sebastian called my attention, throwing a knowing look at my blissful expression.

 

“He wants to talk to you.” My eyes slowly traveled from Sebastian’s face to his outstretched hand, offering me his mobile phone. I stared at him owlishly with my fork still tucked in between my lips after taking a fork full of risotto. He waved his iPhone in front of me until I hesitantly took it from his grasp and faced it towards me to show the smiling visage of Anthony Mackie. “Some friends you are.” He greeted me in a mock affronted manner. “Going to brunch without inviting me. I bet Chris doesn’t know any better either. Where’d he take you?” Instead of deigning to reply, I merely chewed and pressed the option to flip the camera so I can show Anthony the rest of the place (including an image of Sebastian taking a huge bite of his egg spinach toast). When I felt that he’s seen what he needs to see, I flipped the camera back to me. “Hi.” I finally greeted him with a toothy grin. “You would have been invited if only we bumped into you too. But you’re in New Orleans so...” I let my sentence drag, letting him fill in the blanks at what’s left unsaid. “I promise I’ll take you when you drop by New York again, we’ll even leave Sebastian out of it too.” Sebastian snorted under his breath at my comment as he speared a cherry tomato from his plate to pop into his mouth. “See-” Flipping the camera once more to show Sebastian polishing off the rest of the breadbasket. “- he’s no fun. He just keeps on eating.”

 

“Now you’re talking!” Anthony agreed with a smirk. “Let’s bring Chris along and just leave Stan out of it. No bread is safe with him around. Oh. By the way, my friend told me that he has those light fixtures I was talking about, you still interested on getting them?”

 

“Light fixtures?” Sebastian asked me curiously as he leaned back on his chair after consuming everything on his plate in record time, a contented smile gracing his features. I watched Sebastian as he settled in his seat and can’t help but be amused at his expression. “Food good?”

 

“Hmm?” He murmured to me sleepily, making me laugh in the process. “He looks like he’s about to nod off.” I informed Anthony with a laugh, nodding towards the well sated man across from me. “I’m planning on renovating the second floor of the shop. I asked Anthony for his input and we agreed that I need to change the light fixtures upstairs. Maybe I should change the windows as well?” Images of large bay windows with natural light streaming inside the spacious room filled my head. I could add shelves under the seats for storage and maybe some cushions on top of the seat. “I think you’re forgetting that your landlord only allowed you to update the place’s lighting and not the entire joint.” Anthony helpfully pointed out, as I got lost in thought. I grinned at him sheepishly and admitted, “Sorry. I thought of bay windows and just got lost.”

 

“Oh, damn. That WOULD look good upstairs with large cushioned window seats and natural lighting.” Anthony nodded, lips pursed as he considered my idea. But eventually he gave me an apologetic smile when he came to the same conclusion as I did when he reminded me about my landlord. “Sorry, girl. We can only work with what we got. Give it a year or two and we’ll get the old man to reconsider.”

 

“A girl can dream.” I sighed wistfully. “Anyway - yeah, I’m interested on getting them. Can you also ask him if he can hook me up with some of those vintage banker’s lamps too? I’m looking for one to get for my place.” Anthony pursed his lips slightly in thought. “You mean those little lamps with green shades on them, right?”

 

“Yep.” I replied, popping the ‘p’ at the end. “Throw in those lemon squares Ari makes and I got you.” He proposed with a smirk.

 

“Don’t do it.” Sebastian suddenly piped up from his seat. “Don’t do it Y/N. He’s just trying to trick you into giving him free food.”

 

“As if I don’t already spoil you three with extra helpings whenever you order something at my shop.” I rolled my eyes at Sebastian who froze in his seat at my statement. “Wait.” I raised an eyebrow at the slight alarm on his features. “Seriously?” Anthony and I shared a look at Sebastian’s surprise, mutually deciding to leave him in suspense about the extra free food he’s been getting from me. He can’t be that oblivious. Who serves a plate of brownies good for three for only $3.50?

 

“I’ll check in with my friend about the quotation for those light fixtures and have him email you what he’s got.” Anthony looked past his phone and I watched him nod towards someone on his end. “You gotta go?” I asked him when his focus was on me once more. “Yeah, it’s my wife. Got to cut this short, something about the kids. I’ll send you a text once he emails you the quotation.” He explained regretfully. “It’s cool. Say hi to your wife for me. And the kids as well! You know where to find me anyway.” I flipped the camera so that Mackie can see Sebastian wave bye to him. “See you man.” Sebastian told him with an easy smile. With another smile and nod at me, Anthony ended the FaceTime, then I handed back to Sebastian is phone. But instead of taking it back, he merely pushed his phone back at me as he took a sip from his water, only stating the word “number” as a way of explanation before calling Nathan’s attention to our table. “What exactly do you want me to do?” I questioned him, my outstretched hand still offering his phone back to him. “Punch in your number and save it to my phone.” He replied succinctly. “I’m getting a cup of coffee, do you want anything else?”

 

“Oh.” I eked out as I slowly brought up his phone back to my side of the table and stare at it dazedly. “Y/N?” Sebastian asked me again, head tilting to the side to peer at my face closely. “Uh - no, I’m good. You can get the bill if you want.” I replied mechanically as I punched in my number to his phone through muscle memory alone.

 

Sebastian just asked for my number. Well, not asked but more like directed me to add my number to his contacts list. What is my life right now? I really shouldn’t be freaking out but holy shit, it’s saved.

 

It’s there.

 

On his phone.

 

My name.

 

And my number.

 

Oh my god.

 

Admittedly, I’ve already exchanged numbers with Anthony and Chris from before but it’s not the same. With Anthony, we exchanged numbers due to our mutual affinity for making comments (read: insulting) about the people who are featured in House Hunters. Lydia, if you’re looking for a three-bedroom, fully furnished, open house concept with a well-tended garden located in the city that also happens to fit your 350k budget, you had it coming. After we learned this common interest, Anthony and I started texting our comments (read: still insults) to each other whenever we’d catch an episode of House Hunters.

 

As for Chris, we exchanged numbers because Chris started requesting if he could have coffee and food delivered to his meetings in the city. When he asked about the shop having a delivery service, Chris made the mistake of asking this question to Jonathan. It was only through sheer will and years of knowing Jonathan that I was able to figure out what he was about to do and stop him from saying something inappropriate to Chris. I ended up giving Chris my number in all the commotion that was happening just to distract Jonathan away from him. Thank god for Ian and Jonathan’s inexplicable pull to anything related to Ryan Phillippe. Although we don’t really do deliveries, Chris and I managed to settle an arrangement with him texting me in advance his team’s order while we have it prepared just in time before someone from his team picks it up from the store.

 

I guess, we can add Sebastian Stan to that very short list of A-List people on my contacts now?

 

Best $100 of my life.

 

I was broken from my reverie when Nathan appeared at our table once more with Sebastian’s cup of coffee and our bill. Any distracted thoughts I may have left in relation to numbers and contact lists were effectively erased from my mind when I saw Sebastian draw out his wallet and tuck in a sleek AmEx card inside the bill folder handed to him by Nathan. I stole the bill folder from his grasp before he can hand it back to Nathan, the “Thanks.” he was about to say to the other man dying at his lips. “Nope.” I told him firmly at the questioning look he gave me. “We’re going dutch on this one Nathan. Just let me check what I owe him, then I’ll -”

 

“We’re not splitting the bill.” Sebastian cut me off, one hand bracing against the table as he leaned across to take back the bill folder from me. “Y/N.” I ignored him and maneuvered the bill folder away from him, going as far as leaning way back against my seat to be out of his reach. I scanned down the receipt and mentally calculated the amount I owe in total. “I owe you….” My voice faltering just as I stared stupidly at the Nathan-less place right next to our table after lowering the bill folder from my face. “Where’s Nathan?” Sebastian’s eyebrows shot up to his forehead, eyes slowly being dragged from whatever he was typing up on his phone. When cerulean eyes met mine, that’s when he realized what I was talking about. “He’s finishing up with our bill.” He replied flippantly as he resumed whatever he was doing on his phone. “But I have the bill folder with me. Your card too.” I said to him in confusion. “How can he process our bill when it’s with me?”

 

“I paid our bill in cash and had him process it.” Sebastian answered with a triumphant flash of his pearly whites at me. “Tip included.” He added when he noticed that I was about to say something. I glowered at him in annoyance. “Come on. Let me pay for today.” Sebastian implored when I wouldn’t let up with my glower, his entire face morphing into a puppy dog pout. Damn it. “As payback for all those extra helpings of baked goods you’ve been plying me with.”

 

And…. cue wide blue eyes.

 

God damn it.

 

“Fine.” I glared at the triumphant grin he shot my way and handed him the bill folder with his AmEx card. “But we’re going dutch next time.” I froze on my seat just as it registered in my head what I just said. However, before I can try to figure out a way to take back the unintentional offer, Sebastian just smiled at me and said, “Deal.”, not even so much as batting an eyelash at my slip. He set his napkin on the table and stood up from his seat with me following suit. “Speaking of those baked goods, it really pains me to say this but Don’s kicking my ass back at the Drive. I may need to cut back on some of Ari’s best.”

 

“You’re just upset because Jonathan’s always teasing you about skipping leg day.” I teased him. “I’ll just save all your extra helpings for when Mackie visits.” A giggle escaped through my lips at the affronted look he was sporting as if he was truly torn about his extra helpings being given to Anthony. “See if I let you pick the restaurant next time.” He complained good-naturedly as we made our way to his car.

 

New books, good food, and good company.

 

Yep, it was a good call that I decided to go out and spend the Spring day outside.


	6. A Girl and Her Books

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to: Celebs Cool for the photo

              

 

The shop was fairly busy this afternoon. Everyone was either serving customers coffee, or assisting them at the book shop like me. Jonathan was stationed at the counter where he was in his element of giving people orders on what to do, including the customers. “In the spectrum of Mary’s, you’re more on the Virgin side than Magdalene. I’d lose the pantsuit if I were you.” He commented at a deadpan tone to one of our regulars who should have known better than to ask Jonathan for fashion advice for a job interview. Luckily, the customer just laughed at his comment and went on her way after she got her order from Samantha, our barista. I sighed to myself at what just transpired, seeing everything unfold from where I’m standing at the book shop. As rude and deadpan as he could get, you have to hand it to Jonathan for never failing in delivering witty one liners.

 

“Thank you so much for the book.” Gushed by the girl in front of me, making me focus once more on the transaction I was doing before I was distracted by Jonathan’s _Mary Spectrum_. “I’ve been waiting to get a copy of this book since it was released but it’s been sold out wherever I looked. Thank god you accept reservations.”

 

“It was no problem at all.” I replied to her kindly as I handed her the book she just purchased. “Feel free to contact us if there are any books you want to pre-order. I hope you enjoy the book!” She waved her hand as a sign of goodbye and left the store with a call of, “I will!” over her shoulder before the doors closed behind her. I closed the cashier register with a smile to myself and was about to make my way back to the kitchen for lunch when I heard the distinct chime of my phone alerting me to a text.

 

**_S: Are you busy?_ **

 

I stopped for a second and blinked at the message Sebastian just sent to me. Weird. I shot off a reply ( **_What do you think?_ ** ) and started walking towards the kitchen once more, wondering what Seb was driving at with his text. He’s in Atlanta right now doing who knows what for Marvel. It’s Marvel, so it’s anyone’s guess what it is. For all we know he could be shooting Bucky’s standalone film at the moment. (I wish. Ha!) But for him to text me, asking what I’m up to, is what’s bothering me. Ever since that spontaneous brunch at Williamsburg, we’ve been hanging out quite frequently. Mostly brunch at Marlow & Sons when we’re both free but we’ve also been going out for, drinks with the rest of the people from the shop; trips to exhibits that caught our interest lately; dinners with Chris; and even one jogging stint that will never be repeated again if I have anything to say about it.

 

Ugh.

 

_Jogging._

 

And in all those times we’d hang out, Seb and I would usually just make a call to invite the other to whatever plans we might have made. Rarely do we text each other unlike how I am with Chris and Anthony. So it’s a bit weird for him to text me out of nowhere about my plans. Maybe he’s in a meeting and can’t make a call? Eh. He’ll let me know eventually. With a shrug to myself, I pocketed my phone and entered the kitchen, my mind drifting to the past couple of weeks where I found myself being often in the company of Sebastian.

 

It turns out that immunity due to long exposures to something doesn’t just apply to sicknesses. Apparently, it also applies to bouts of nervousness around tall, dark, and handsome Romanians. In the span of the weeks we’ve been spending time together, I’ve surprisingly managed to have zero to minimal incidents caused by my spazzing out. No more spaced out responses to normal inquiries. Or blushing at every attention directed at me whatsoever. And a definite improvement on the stammering. I’d love to say that it’s because I’ve become more zen as the weeks passed, coming to the realization that Seb was just like the rest of us, a normal human being who happens to have a job in the entertainment business. Sadly, this new found confidence and blasé attitude towards Seb was due to the bloody jogging incident. I will never, EVER, trust Seb if he ever invites me to “go on a walk around Brooklyn,” and suggests that I wear sneakers because “it’ll be more comfortable that way.”

 

 **NEVER**.

 

So yes, Sebastian Stan HAS seen me at my worst. My haggard, panting, exhausted, sweaty, and near to comatose worst. The rose-tinted glasses are officially off. And Sebastian went from a guy that I have a crush on, to a guy that I’m ineffably attracted to but somehow want to kick on the shins as well from time to time. I wouldn’t say that I’m cured but at least I’m no longer a nervous wreck around him all the time.

 

I went straight to the large fridge at the back of the kitchen, and took out the plate of creamy tagliatelle with bacon and mushrooms that Ari prepared for me. I popped it inside the microwave oven and took out my phone to see if Seb has already responded to my text while I wait.  

 

**_S: I don’t know, maybe? Hahahaha I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out_ **

 

Both of my eyebrows rose at this. Huh. So maybe he’s not in Atlanta anymore. I fired off another text just as the microwave went off with an incessant beep once it was done reheating my lunch. The speech bubble with the moving ellipsis appeared on my phone to show that Seb was in the process of replying. I took out my plate and set it on the kitchen table while I watched out for his reply.

 

**_Y/N: I’m just messing with you haha are you in NYC right now?_ **

 

**_S: Yeah, just got back from a couple days back from Atlanta_ **

 

Well, I figured that out already. I grinned to myself as I twirled a fork on my pasta and decided to mess with Seb.

 

**_Y/N: Ooohhhh Atlanta. I’m free this afternoon in exchange for marvel intel_ **

 

**_S: No deal. If you want spoilers, it’s Holland you should be asking_ **

 

I crinkled my nose at Seb’s reply. Seriously, dude? As awesome as it would be, It’s not like I have ALL the marvel actors logged into my contacts list, just the three of you.

 

**_Y/N: I would if I could, Stan. But see_**

**_a) Tom and I aren’t really acquainted_ **

**_b) you were the one who asked to hang out_ **

**_c) you’re one to talk, you blabbed about Chris becoming Nomad!!!_ **

 

**_S: I did no such thing_ **

 

I scoffed at this. He’s one to talk. Doesn’t he realize that he’s one of the reasons why Marvel became as paranoid as it is today when it comes to the production of their movies.

 

**_Y/N: You totally did_ **

 

**_S: Did not_ **

 

**_Y/N: http://www.digitalspy.com/movies/the-avengers/news/a843142/avengers-infinity-war-fan-theory-captain-america-nomad-confirmed-winter-soldier/_ **

 

I grinned to myself when it took him awhile to reply back, celebrating my victory with another mouthful of pasta. Eventually, the boy finally conceded to the fact that he IS one of Marvel’s leaks when it comes to spoilers as he fired off another text.

 

To be fair to him though, in comparison to Tom Holland, his spoilers were pretty tame.

 

**_S: Touché. I can’t tell you shit about marvel but I CAN show you embarrassing set photos from the previous movies. Deal?_ **

 

**_Y/N: Hmmm, tempting..._ **

 

**_S: Come on, that’s quality material right there_ **

 

**_Y/N: Throw in a brief stop at the Strand and I’m game_ **

 

When it took Seb awhile to reply, my brows furrowed in bewilderment. What’s wrong with the Strand? Doesn’t he know I’m letting him off the hook this easily with just a trip to the Strand? Pfft.

 

**_S: One hour max_ **

 

“Please.” I muttered to myself sardonically at his reply. He should know me by now. Does he really expect that a trip to the Strand with me can only last an hour? He’s lucky that I didn't even bother with adding BOOKTHUGNATION to the itinerary.

 

**_Y/N: Nope. Minimum._ **

 

**_S: Two hours MAX_ **

 

**_Y/N:_**

**_S:_**

 

Ugh. Fine. It’s not as if he’ll actually time me once we’re there. I’ll just take my sweet, sweet time browsing until it’s too late for him to realize we’ve gone beyond two hours inside the store while I’m already knee-deep in books.

 

**_Y/N: Okay, okay hahaha where do you want to meet up?_ **

 

**_S: I can pick you up from your shop? How does 4 sound?_ **

 

**_Y/N: You sure? I don’t mind meeting you wherever it is._ **

 

**_S: Yeah, I’m sure. So I’ll see you 4pm?_ **

 

**_Y/N: Yep_ **

 

I wiped my mouth and hopped from my stool as our conversation ended. Might as well start washing up so I can finish the rest of what I have to do for today so I don’t have anything pending by the time Seb picks me up. I sauntered out to the shop after drying my hands at the neared dish towel, in search of my assistant manager. I headed straight to Jonathan once I spotted him reclining on a chair near the counter, shamelessly flirting with the guy from the next table. “Johnny.” I called out to him affectionately as I neared him, making Jonathan drop his seat and narrow his eyes at me. “What do you want?” He asked me suspiciously, eyeing me from head to toe. I rolled my eyes at him and told him pointedly, “I don’t want anything from you. Calm your tits. I’m just going to tell you that I’m leaving the shop early. Seb’s picking me up around 4.” Jonathan cocked an eyebrow at this. “I thought he was in Atlanta for some Marvel shit?”

 

I shrugged my shoulders at him in response. It’s not like I’m Seb’s handler. I’m not privy to the man’s time regardless if we’ve been frequently hanging out together. “Anyway, do you mind if you close shop for me? You can close early if you want.”

 

“Where’s he taking you this time?” He asked me with a cock of his head to the side, lips curling at the edges slightly. “The Strand.” I shrugged my shoulders at his unamused heavenward gaze as if asking divine intervention on my behalf. “What?”

 

“I don’t know who to pity more, you or him.” Jonathan told me frankly as he took out his phone and unlocked it. “I’m not going to spell it out for you if you don’t understand what I’m talking about. It’s below my pay grade, dear.” He added when I was about to question him what the fuck he was talking about. I huffed and glared at his supine form. After a deep breath and counting up to five Mississippi's inside my head I ignored his glib comment and repeated my initial question, “Do you mind if you close shop for me? If not, I can just go back from wherever we’re going.”

 

Jonathan who has by now lost interest with the present conversation as well as with the guy he was flirting before merely murmured a noncommittal sound in assent to my request as he scrolled through whatever on his phone. When it seemed like I won’t be getting any other response from the other man, I shook my head and turned around to go to my office at the second floor. If it weren’t for the fact that I love him to bits and pieces as well as the fact that I would’ve gone bankrupt without him around - actually no, never mind. Not worth it. I won’t think about it anymore. It’s Jonathan, what else is new?

 

With that in mind, I entered my office and surveyed what needs to be done. I have about three hours till Seb gets here to pick me up. More than enough time to answer my work emails, go through the shop’s bills, and sign whatever forms Jonathan has left for me on my desk. Pretty soon, 4 o’ clock arrived and I was just signing the last document on my pile with a flourish, smiling to myself in satisfaction. I should totally make “skiving off work early to meet Seb” a thing. Who knew I could be this productive?

 

After clearing up the mess I made, I pushed myself away from my desk and grabbed my bag to head downstairs. As I reached the last step, I was about to check my phone if Seb has sent a text to let me know his whereabouts when I heard his voice greet Jonathan. I looked up from my phone and grinned at him as I headed towards his direction. “Going back to the Paul Bunyan look?” I asked him in greeting which made Seb rub a hand across his weeks worth of beard. “Hello to you too.” He told me pointedly, lips betraying the smile he was trying to suppress upon seeing me. “Pfft, enough with the niceties. I can hear the Strand calling my name in longing.” I retorted good naturedly but the damn man just stood in front of me, immobile like a bloody tree. “What?”

 

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” He asked my coyly, opening his arms slightly in an invitation for a hug. My ears turned red a bit but I shouldered on and gave him a hug fully intending to keep it short to get a move on. Sebastian though had other ideas and kept a firm hold of me as he squeezed me tight to his chest. Jonathan passing by mouthing, “Hopeless.” to me was enough for me to snap back to reality and step away from the hug. “You got your hug, can we go now please?” I asked Seb imploringly with a bat of my lashes. “After such a warm welcome? Who am I to say no?” He replied sardonically as he placed a hand on my lower back to lead me outside the store. “We’re going!” I called out to Jonathan and the rest of the staff as we made our way outside to which my assistant manager just replied with a, “Mmkay. Noted, with thanks.” in a bored tone making Seb snort at my affronted look. “I swear. I get no respect around here.” I frowned to myself, eyes squinting when the light from the sun hit my eyes. Sebastian dropped his hand from my lower back to take off his cap and run a hand through his hair before placing his cap on top of my head haphazardly. “It’s Jonathan. Shouldn’t you be used to him by now?” He asked me in amusement while I fixed the cap on top of my head. “I should but I can’t help but harbor this sliver of hope that he’ll do a complete 180 degree personality shift one day.” I explained to Seb wistfully as I pictured a day at work, sarcasm free from Jonathan. “Then again, I’d miss his iconic one-liners.” Seb simply made an, “Eh.” expression in response as we walked to his car. “You’re still sore about the leg day thing?” I asked him with a smirk. “For the record, I don’t skip leg day. My legs are fine. Don and I pay enough attention to it when I work out. So no, I am not sore about it _at all_. I’m just saying, his comments are witty but not THAT iconic.” Seb noted, trying to look unimpressed. “Sure, you’re not.” Seb rolled his eyes at the dubious tone of my voice making me grin at him in amusement. We were nearing his parked car and instead of deigning to make a reply, Seb just unlocked his car and batted my hands away when I was about to reach for the car door’s handle. He pulled it open for me and I slid inside with a small murmur of thanks to him. He closed the door firmly behind me and I watched as Seb jogged to his side of the car.

 

“Do you want to connect your phone?” Seb asked me as he busied himself with starting the car to pull out of the curb. “Okay, what do you feel like listening to? 80s? I have some of your playlists saved on my Spotify?” I inquired while I connected my phone to his car’s sound system. “Let’s just use your playlist.” He suggested after a beat as he flicked his turn signal to the left. I selected my playlist he was talking about and put it on shuffle, settling back on my seat just when the bird and the bee started playing on the background.

 

We spent the rest of the ride in comfortable silence until we reached the Strand. Without waiting for Seb to do the honors (as he was wont to do), I got out of the car as soon as he was parked, grinning happily at the sight of the Strand. “How are you this excited?” Seb questioned me when he stepped up next to me after locking his car. “You’re already constantly inside a bookstore day in, day out.”

 

“Yeah, but this is different.” I told him decidedly. “The Nook is my baby but it’s work. I literally can’t spend the day just browsing the shelves as much as I want to. Even if it’s my day off or I’m the boss, I’m physically compelled to be attentive whenever a customer comes in. But when I go to other bookstores, I don’t have to do that. So, I can browse their shelves to my heart’s content without worrying about losing a customer. And the possibility of Jonathan flipping out on me for losing a customer.”

 

“You mean browse to your heart’s content up to two hours only, right?” He dutifully reminded me with a cock of his eyebrow. “Hmm?” I mumbled, completely distracted by the rows and rows of books that met me upon our entry. “Oh! The two hours thing. Sure, yeah. Let’s meet up front after two hours.” I gave his shoulder a pat in assurance and directed my attention once more to the books in front of me, completely missing the fond yet exasperated look Seb was directing at me. Now where to start? I slowly walked past the stacks of new releases and made the decision to go to the first book cover that would catch my eye. In an instant, I spotted the Penguin Little Black Classics arranged in a neat row which I’ve been slowly collecting since its launch. From there onwards, I was completely immersed in my browsing and was barely paying attention to my surroundings. As expected, the Strand had a lot of books that piqued my interest and it took some time before I remembered that I’m here with someone. It was only when I reached the science fiction area and I was holding one of Ian Doescher’s Star Wars book in Shakespeare that I remembered Sebastian. I moved away from the shelf and took a peak at the aisle to try and spot Seb’s familiar head of hair, fully intending to show him the book. When I still didn’t see any sign of him, I craned my neck to glance around the place but before I could spot Sebastian, I gave a slight start when I suddenly heard him speak from behind me. “Looking for me?”

 

I clutched the book to my chest and whirled around to glare at him. “Jesus, don’t do that!” Sebastian was leaning sideways against the shelf where I just drew out the book I was still holding, his arms crossed in front of him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He told me in reply even though his face says otherwise. “Yeah, right.” I scoffed at him as I stepped closer to where he was standing. Seb merely smirked at me unapologetically and watched me come a stop in front of him. “What’s that?” He asked me with a nod to the book that I was still clutching tightly to my chest. “I’m actually shocked that you don’t have more books with you.”

 

“As opposed to contrary belief, I do know how to practice self-control.” I handed the book in my grasp to Seb to show him the cover and title of the book. “I can walk in a bookstore and actually leave it without making a single purchase.”

 

“So, you’re not buying this?” He asked me curiously as he skimmed through the first few pages of the book. “Wait. This is ALL in Shakespeare???” I gave him a nod and directed his eyes to the rest of the book series. “Yep. It’s so extra, I love it.” I admitted to him gleefully. “And, I’m buying it. I already have a copy of _Verily, A New Hope_ and I’ve been meaning to buy the rest but it always escapes my mind to do so until I spotted it here. What about you? Got anything?”

 

“I did. I already had them paid and stored at the back of my car. I’ve been tailing your progress at the store since then.” I made an “Oh.” expression after he finished his explanation. “Have you been waiting long?” I hedged out to him hesitantly then suddenly added more confidently, “I’m sure you didn’t. It can’t be two hours already.” Sebastian looked at me in disbelief. “You’ve been in here nearly three hours already. I was waiting to see how long it’ll take you till you resurface back to the land of the living.” I smiled at him sheepishly but Seb just gave me a knowing look and brushed off any apology that I was about to make. “Do you want to have that rung up at the cashier then we can go grab a bite to eat?”

 

“Yep. Where do you want to -” I was about to ask where he wants to eat but my voice petered out as it dawned on me that I had a salsa verde honey lime chicken left slow cooking at home for my dinner tonight. Shit. I knew I forgot something. “What is it?” He asked me in concern at my alarmed expression.

 

FUCK.

 

I know the idea behind slow cookers is the fact that you can just dump the ingredients and let the damn thing do its culinary magic in an eight to ten hour time frame, leaving you free to go gallivanting off to say like - the Strand to go book shopping with Sebastian Stan. But these things have limits and… yep. It’s been more than ten hours already. I’m sure it’s fine. It’s on low heat anyway. We can just have a quick bite to eat and I’ll go home as soon as I can. To whatever’s left of my apartment, that is.

 

Right, get a grip Y/L/N.

 

Getting paranoid won’t help.

 

I took a peek up at Seb and a traitorous thought flitted through my head. _We don’t have to eat out._ Do I risk my apartment burning down to the ground (don’t tell me I’m being dramatic, it’s a huge possibility okay?) or risk Seb seeing me in my natural habitat? I mean we hang out a lot already, right? Inviting him over wouldn’t be weird at all. Besides he’s seen at my worse. He even fucking caused it. Fucking jogging.

 

Right.

 

Oh god.

 

I’m really doing this.

 

“Do you want to have dinner at my place instead? I completely forgot that I left something cooking at my Crock-Pot for dinner.” I asked him with a slight grimace. “Is that what you were freaking out about?” He asked me, amusement lacing through his voice. “Come on. Let’s pay for your book and we can head towards your place before your slow cooker burns it to the ground. I’m kidding!” He hastily added when he noticed that I only grew more alarmed at his comment. “What were you cooking anyway?” We were nearing the cashier and I smiled at the man behind the counter as I handed him my card and the book that I was going to buy. “Salsa verde honey lime chicken. It’s going to be the filler for my soft tacos.” I replied after I collected my purchase and receipt from the cashier. “Fair warning though, it’s just a recipe I saw on Buzzfeed and I’m no Ari in the kitchen. So don’t expect gourmet level food. It might be good at best, and edible at its worst.”

 

“There’s always chinese take out if worse comes to worst.” Seb grinned at me, head tilting to the side creating a face as if to say, “ _You never know._ ” I snorted out a laugh as he pushed the door open for us to step out of the Strand. “I call dibs on all the orange chicken if that’s the case.” I gamely said to him as our feet traced back our steps towards his parked car to which Seb voiced his disapproval to with a loud, “Tsk, tsk.”

 

“One, no one is allowed to hoard the orange chicken.” He looked me dead in the eye, a mock disapproving frown gracing his features. “And two, the right response should have been, ‘ _Chinese take out my ass. My salsa verde something, something chicken is going to blow your mind.’_ ”

 

“Is that supposed to sound like me?” I asked him incredulously, his faux high pitch making me stop smack dab in the middle of the sidewalk. When he didn’t respond and merely flashed me his pearly whites, I countered his instruction with a bet. “If that’s how it is, want to make a bet on it? If we get home and my cooking actually tastes like shit, then I get to hoard ALL the orange chicken we’re going to order, and you have to finish ALL of the salsa verde honey lime chicken I cooked.”

 

“And if it actually tastes good?” He challenged, looking contemplative at what’s at stake. “Does that mean, I get to eat ALL the orange chicken as well?”

 

“Of course not.” I retorted vehemently. Heh, I guess chinese take out is going to be on the menu tonight as well regardless if my cooking is shit or not. “Can it be something else? All this talk of orange chicken is making me badly crave them.” I grinned sheepishly at him, making Seb roll his eyes and shake his head at my ridiculousness. “Fine. Then I get to call in a favor, no questions asked, if your cooking actually tastes good. Deal?”

 

“Deal.” I replied firmly, but hastily added as we resumed walking, “- but honesty is the best policy. No pretending it’s good if it’s not.”

 

“I doubt I’d need to pretend liking the food you cooked. You’re just exaggerating. I’m sure it’s fine.” Sebastian said in a flippant manner while pulling out his keys to unlock the car doors. Flattering as his words might be (I’m not going to deny that I’m grateful that the shadow from the cap he lent me covered the flush of my cheeks), I am still determined enough to win this odd bet and eat my weight in orange chicken for the rest of the night. With a confident smirk, I let myself have the last say, “Famous last words, Stan. Famous last words.” and left it at that as we simultaneously went inside his car before he drove us off to my apartment building.


	7. A Girl and Her New Gig

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to:  
> \- Chris' photo to US Magazine  
> \- Sebastian's meme gif to Pinterest (sorry I couldn't track where it originally came from)
> 
> Disclaimer:  
> I kind of struggled a bit in writing this, that's why it took awhile for me to put up another chapter but I hope you like it. I am genuinely thankful for the comments and kudos you've left me since I started posting. Feel free to let me know what you think of the latest update. 
> 
> P.S. I've been sort of debating whether I'll write the next chapter in Seb's point of view or not. 
> 
> Yeah?  
> or  
> Nah?

                                     

 

One of the things that I learned from my mother is that if you want things to get done, you do it yourself. And like the good daughter that I am, I took this to heart even though it might not be practical (or safe) to do so. Case in point: instead of hiring someone to screw on large hooks at the ceiling of the second floor reading room, I decided to do it myself like a good business woman would do. (They don’t. They hire people who are experts to do this shit.) To be honest, if I had my way, I would have totally helped Anthony’s friend’s staff to install the light fixtures but Anthony wouldn’t have it and put his foot down. “Let them do their damn job Y/N.” He told me exasperatedly over the phone when I commented to him that they might need help as they made the installation. “You just had your pins taken out. How the hell you gonna help them?”

  
  
That was weeks ago and the doctor has given me the clear that my left wrist is fine. There might have been a mention of absconding from any strenuous work for the mean time but it’s just screws. I’m sure my doctor won’t see any harm in me screwing bolts to the ceiling. Or you know, carrying around potted plants.

 

It’s totally fine.

  
With that in mind, I threw caution to the wind and happily continued what I was doing. My legs were straddled across a ladder which my landlord lent to us for the day just for this and I had a small tool belt slung around my hips for easy access to what I need. I told the rest of the people at the shop what I was doing and gave them instructions to cord off customers from the second floor for the mean time. Although the same restrictions don’t apply to them, my staff knows me well enough to figure out that this was a task I prefer doing alone. A fact that I’m grateful for since the lack of people and repetitive manual labor proved to be very meditative for me. Combine that with the loud music blasting through my bluetooth speakers, (enveloping the entire room with songs from Carly Rae Jepsen) it was no surprise that I didn’t notice anyone come in until it was too late.

  
  
“When Ian said you were upstairs, I thought he meant you were doing paper work and not high up a ladder screwing bolts to the ceiling.” Seb commented out of nowhere from behind me, making me jump from my seat at the ladder and nearly toppling over in the process. Luckily, I was able to clutch a chain I just installed on my right to stop myself from falling but not before swearing out loud, “Mother fucking hell!”

  
  
I glanced down, my heart beating a mile a minute as if I had just ran a marathon, and shot a withering look at Sebastian who must have ran across the room to balance me and the ladder to stop me from falling. “You okay?” He asked me with an apologetic smile. I inhaled deeply and tried to control my breathing before responding. “Didn’t I tell you not to sneak up on me like that???”

  
  
“Do you want to go down?” Seb asked me, brushing off my question and raised both arms towards me. I shot his arms a dubious look despite the fact that the prospect of him carrying me may have just caused my heart to speed up. Again. “Are you forgetting what happened the last time you carried me?” I reminded him tartfully, one arm still wrapped tightly against the hanging chains. “And to think, Anthony was with you in carrying me then.”

 

“You said that wasn’t our fault!” He shot back with a pointed look. “I can see you shaking from where I’m standing, just grab my hand and I’ll do the rest.” At first I didn’t want to relent and release my grip from the chains but as Seb has so kindly pointed out, I was shaking like a leaf. The mere act of looking down towards Seb from my perch, all the way on top of this ridiculously high ladder, is making me weak kneed. And not even in a good way! Damn it. What more if I do attempt to go down myself? With a dramatic sigh, I loosened my grip on the chain and reached out a hand to Seb whose large hand enveloped my own in a firm grip. “Okay, now swing your legs to this side. I got you.” He instructed me as he kept a steady hold on my hand while I maneuvered my whole body to face him. As soon as I was able to swing my whole body towards his direction, Seb stepped up closer to the ladder and wrapped his arm tightly around my thighs. Without so much as a warning, Sebastian lifted me high up against him, making me grip his shoulders and cry out, “Holy shit!” He laughed out loud at my reaction, grinning mischievously when he jostled me a little bit to secure his grip. “Can you please put me down now?” I asked him with a glare. 

 

“Is there something you want to say to me first?” Seb lifted an eyebrow as a challenge, looking like a cat who ate the canary. “Ugh. Fine! Your guns are more than capable of holding me up. Happy?” He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at me in discontent. “You do know I could do this all day?” I groaned out loud, closed my eyes tightly, and dropped my head to my chest in exasperation, my hands still bracing myself against his broad shoulders. “Seb, please?” I whinged to him and it was only when I took a peek at him that I realized that he was looking up at me fondly. My face heated up and for the life of me, I couldn’t drag my eyes away from his cerulean gaze, heart hammering wildly in my chest. 

 

That is, until Chris walked in on us. 

 

“Woah, sorry! Am I interrupting something?” Humor laced through his voice as he barged in the room then immediately stepped back as he caught sight of Seb holding me up. My eyes widened horrifically at the sight of Chris, tapping Seb’s shoulders once more none too lightly. “It’s nothing. He was just, um - helping me down from the ladder.” I stammered out as Seb carefully lowered me to my feet. “Yeah, I caught her by surprise. She nearly fell from the ladder.” Sebastian added as he pushed back his straggly dark hair away from his face, his own gaze shifting away from our friend’s curious look. Chris’ light blue eyes flickered from me to Seb, then back to me, slightly smirking at our discomfited appearance. “I see they’ve installed the light fixtures already.” Chris threw in helpfully when the pause from the conversation dragged on for a bit. “Uhm, yeah.” I glanced up at the beautiful lights that were recently installed, internally grateful at the change of subject even if Chris was still grinning smugly at us. “It’s sort of evolved into a little side project of mine. I wanted to make the floor look more lively so I thought of adding potted and hanging plants to do the trick. Hence, the up in the ladder screwing situation.” A beat and two pairs of eyebrows shooting up at my statement made me flush, adding insistently, “Hooks! I meant screwing hooks!” 

 

“Not that I question both your abilities-“ Chris began in good humor as he continued on in a louder voice to drown out my growl of, “ **Chris** .”

 

“-but as fascinating as it is to know how you both can accomplish such feat, I’m afraid I’ll have to take a raincheck. (“Jesus, you know what I meant!”) **Since** , I actually came up here to take you down with me.” I was about to let out another tirade when his last sentence gave me pause. “Huh?”

 

“I would have brought him up with me but he kind of got mobbed by your staff and customers downstairs. So, you’d have to come with me to meet him.” Chris explained with a nod towards the door leading to the stairs. “Wait. Who are we talking about again?” I asked him with a furrow of my eyebrows, glancing at Seb who apparently was just as clueless as I am about who Chris was talking about, judging by the way he shrugged his shoulders when I directed my eyes up at him. “You’ll see. Are you coming or not?” Chris called over his shoulder as he made his way out of the room. “You could have given me a heads up.” I told him once Sebastian and I came up next to him on the stairs leading to the first floor of the shop. “You know, made myself presentable at least.”

 

“You look fine.” Chris and Sebastian stated simultaneously, the former in a dismissive manner and the latter in assurance. “I doubt he’d mind. Believe me, he won’t notice the difference.” Chris continued as we neared the last step. “Seriously, who on earth are we talking about?” I questioned him once more, at my wits end from all the suspense. “Oh my god. Am I meeting your brother!? Is that it??? CHRIS! I look like total - oh.” I stopped dead on my tracks once I saw the mixed breed boxer hurtling its way towards Chris who kneeled on the floor with open arms to greet his dog. And in 0.00000000000001 second, I went from wanting to tackle Chris for making me meet someone while looking like total shit to wanting to tackle his dog in warm cuddles. “Oh my god, you brought Dodger?!?!” I gasped out loud as I knelt beside the two of them. Chris was being licked within an inch of his life by his very excitable dog, that it took several attempts to move his face away from Dodger before he could properly reply back. “Yeah, my sister dropped him off a couple days ago as a favor to me since she knows how much I missed him. I remembered you saying that you wanted to meet him, that’s why I brought him with me today.” 

 

“You mean, you remember me telling you outright that I’m willing to fly out to Boston just to meet your dog?” I told him wryly while rubbing Dodger behind his fluffy ears. When he deemed that Chris was properly greeted, Dodger then turned his attention towards the next person who was showering him with affection, i.e. me. He turned his lithe body towards me and started licking wherever he could reach, from the arm that I was using to pet him, up to my cheek. Like with Chris, Dodger was relentless at showing his excitement to me but luckily I eventually managed to pull away from him and calm him down. In all that excitement, I found myself sitting cross legged on my shop’s hardwood floors with a panting mixed breed boxer lying across my lap as I ran my hands through his soft fur. “I can distinctly remember you saying that you were willing to use what’s left of your mileages just to make that trip.” Sebastian commented in amusement as he took out his phone to snap pictures of me with Dodger. “And it’s a sacrifice that I’m willing to make. All that for this baby.” I gushed to Dodger who looked up at me with his tongue happily lolling to the side of his mouth. “Have you seen anything cuter than this? Look at his face!”

 

“I think Seb can come up with something.” Chris replied in a teasing manner as he leaned against the table nearby. Without really intending to, my eyes darted quickly to take a peek at Seb who froze from sliding his phone back to his pocket when Chris said this. His eyes met mine briefly and the corner of his lip lifting into a soft guilty smile made me flush a deep red. “Uh, no. Whatever he can come up with will  **always** be eclipsed by this baby. Right cutie? Yes, you are, baby. You’re  **my** cutie.” With my focus entirely on Dodger, I forcibly pushed to the back of my head whatever just passed and decided firmly not to look into things. It’s just Chris trying to be funny again. It’s nothing. I am most certainly not wondering what that smile from Seb was about. 

 

Nope. 

 

Not at all. 

 

Ugh.

 

Damn you, Chris.

 

“What’s that Dodger?” I feigned listening to Dodger’s continued panting as if the canine was actually telling me something only I could decipher. “You want me to dognap you cause I’m loads more fun than Chris?” Chris gave me an unimpressed look, a thick eyebrow cocking at my mock whispered conversation with his dog. “I said you could visit. Dognapping is off the table Y/L/N.” He reminded me with a smirk but I ignored him and continued, “Of course baby. I’ll do anything you want. We can go on walks at Central Park, eat ice cream, go to the Strand, go to brunch, watch telly together…”

 

“Isn’t that what you do with Stan already?” Jonathan piped up next to Chris as he handed the other man his cup of coffee, effectively cutting me off and making my face heat up once more. I glared at my assistant manager and hissed with as much dignity as I can, “No. I mean, yes. But it’s not the same. Does it look like I go out with Seb on a fucking leash?”

 

When I saw Jonathan’s eyes light up and the shark like grin he was sporting was mirrored by Chris, I knew I was done for.  

 

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

What the fuck did I just do?

 

Dug my own grave, it turns out because Jonathan looked like as if it was Christmas and his birthday all rolled into one after I uttered those words. “Is there something you would like to share with the rest of the class, Y/N?” Jonathan asked in a faux polite tone. “Fuck off.” I warned him with a pointed look, petting Dodger behind his ears the only thing keeping me from choke slamming Jonathan to the next table just to stop him from whatever he’s about to say. As if I have the guts and the arm muscle to do that. But a girl can dream, can’t I? “What? It just seems to me and the rest of us that there’s something that you want to get out of your chest. I don’t know, something like a kink? I’m not sure. I didn’t hear it properly. But feel free to repeat yourself, we’re all ears.” 

 

“We’re definitely NOT all ears.” Chris interrupted, giving me a wink in reassurance when he noticed that I was about to blow my gasket off if Jonathan so much as continued with his teasing. Judging by how amused he looked at my unfiltered babbling, Chris was just as game as Jonathan was to tease me about it, the only big difference is that it’s Chris. I have come to realize in the course of our friendship that he’s not called a good bro for nothing. He’s got your back even if he wants to mercilessly tease you about your slip up. 

 

Oh Christopher, never change. 

 

“Anyway,” Chris continued as he took a fortifying sip of his coffee and before Jonathan can edge in another word in the conversation. And like any mature adult, I stuck my tongue out at a disgruntled Jonathan making Seb snort in laughter behind me. In retaliation, Jonathan merely cocked an eyebrow at me, his silence promising me retribution later. I winced at my assistant manager’s retreating back and glanced up at Seb, mouthing pleadingly, “Help me.” to which he dutifully replied with a silent, “You’re on your own kid.” I glared up at his grinning  ~~ gorgeous ~~ face and muttered, “Traitor.” under my breath. His grin widened and was about to reply when both our attention was drawn back to Chris as he continued talking, “- since you mentioned dognapping. It’s still off the table.” I raised both hands in surrender at the pointed look Chris gave me. “But I was kind of hoping dog sitting isn’t?” 

 

“Wait, what?” I questioned him in surprise, caught off guard by his last sentence. I wasn’t really paying attention what with the cute dog on my lap and the cute guy behind me distracting me from the present conversation, I had to make sure I heard Chris correctly. “Did you just say dog sit?”

 

“He did.” Sebastian answered for Chris. “You sure about this man? I think Y/N’s too busy to dog sit for you. Might as well hire a sitter instead.”

 

“Dude.” I widened my eyes at Sebastian in warning. “Don’t ruin this for me.” I turned back to Chris and gave him my best winning smile. “I’d love to watch over Dodger for you. For free, might I add. You mean now, right?”

 

“No.” Chris laughed with a shake of his head. “Not right now. We’ve got some plans after this. I didn’t really think this bringing Dodger over to New York thing thoroughly that’s why I was hoping you could watch over him while I’m out for a shoot or a meeting. I would’ve hired a sitter but, like I said, I remembered you mentioning about wanting to hang out with my dog a couple of times before. I thought maybe I could ask you if you’re up for it before I go to the sitter option.”   
  


“Don’t go to the sitter option. I’m totally down for dog sitting Dodger for you. I  **love** this dog.” I stopped mid - speech as I recalled a vital piece of information. “Although just as a warning, if your thing lasts through the night, I don’t think I can take him with me back to my apartment.”

 

“Oh, why not? I mean we can work something out I’m just curious why you can’t take him with you when minutes ago you were **THIS** close to dognapping him from me” Chris asked me curiously with a tilt of his head to the side. “Her landlord has a strict policy on pets.” Seb answered on my behalf before I could explain my living situation to Chris. “He’s allergic to anything with a fur as well as several of the other tenants. At least that’s what he told me when I got the lease for the place. So, no dogs, cats, or horses until further notice from him.” I pressed my lips tightly, shrugged my shoulders, and threw my hands up in a gesture as if to say, “What can you do?” to the two men with me. 

 

“Horses?” Chris and Seb asked me simultaneously, completely perplexed at the odd addition of the horse to the list of what’s considered as pets at my building. I winced slightly as I sheepishly explained the odd inclusion, “Yeah, that one is totally on me. I convinced Mr. Ferrer to check out 2 Broke Girls and -”

 

“He figured that if two fictional girls in Brooklyn can hide and house a champion horse at their building’s backyard, what’s stopping you to do the same, right?” Seb concluded with an amused grin. “Yep.” I confirmed with a nod, popping the ‘p’ at the end. “To be fair to him, what they did seemed really probable. God, I miss that show. Why did they have to fucking cancel it?”

 

“You mean you miss Kat Dennings?” Seb corrected me, reaching out a hand to steady me when he saw that I was about to stand up from where I was seated on the floor. “Thanks. Her too, but the show mostly at the moment. Which reminds me, it’s my turn to choose what we’re watching next so be ready to binge watch 2 Broke Girls.” I watched as Dodger gave my hand a last lick before sauntering back to Chris with a happy wag of his tail. “Movie night?” Chris asked us with a knowing look as he pulled out a treat from his pocket and offered it to his waiting dog. I played dumb at what Chris was trying to imply and took a seat next to Seb who answered the other man’s inquiry instead. “Sort of. We usually just end up watching movies or tv series when we’ve got nothing better to do. We just take turns on selecting what to watch next. Although, I’m limiting this to one season only.”

 

“Pfft, weak.” I shot at him in a teasing manner to which Seb just rolled his eyes to and said, “Is it wrong to actually want a decent night’s sleep?”

 

“Sleep is for the weak, Stan.” I told him in my most wise and sage voice. “Yeah, I’m sure you felt that way when you slept through an entire day after binge watching Dirk Gently at Netflix in one sitting.” Seb threw an arm over the back of my chair as he said this, tugging the ends of my ponytail affectionately. “ **Anyway** ,” I began again, trying to reel back in the conversation to what truly matters, Dodger. “- when can I start? I’m totally down for tomorrow.”     

 

“Actually, I just wanted to run this by you first. To see if it’s okay with you.” Chris replied, hand gesturing vaguely in my direction. “I still have a few days free till shooting starts so I’ll let you know by then. Are you really okay with this?” He added in a tentative manner which I scoffed at. “Dude, you’re getting the short end of the stick here. Not me. I’m seriously ecstatic over this arrangement.”

 

“Thank you so much.” He told me gratefully, walking over to where I was seated to stoop low and give me a bear hug in thanks. “You’re the best.” 

 

“Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that until you realize that Dodger loves me more than you.” I patted his massive back awkwardly, trying to joke my way way around his gratitude. He pulled back away from our hug and gave me cocky smirk. “You can try Y/N but I’m Dodger’s favorite. Speaking of which, I owe someone a tour around Central Park.” Chris whistled lowly and patted his thigh to call out Dodger. The dog perked up from where he was dozing on the floor after finishing off his treat, before bounding towards Chris with renewed energy. Seb and I watched as Chris clipped on Dodger’s leash before standing up to his full height. “I’ll text you, yeah? Oh! Before I forget, remember George?” I frowned in puzzled confusion, trying to wrack my brain for any George that Chris may have inadvertently introduced or mentioned to me from before. “George, one of my producers? Asked me about your contact details.”

  
  
“Why?” I drew my head back and along with Chris looked at Seb in a quizzical manner. Cerulean eyes darted between me and Chris, and it was only then when Sebastian realized what he just asked. We looked at him expectantly, waiting for an explanation but Seb just opened his mouth, shook his head slightly, and surprisingly stuck to his guns by repeating his question, “Why does he want her number?”

 

“ **She,** ” Chris started with a strong emphasis on the pronoun, grinning at our expressions: mine of recognition (“Ooh! Georgiana! Now, I remember.) and Seb of realization (“Oh. Shit.”). “- wants to contact Y/N about a proposal to the Nook about being a part of the film’s craft services.” 

 

“Sorry, I remembered just now. I got confused with the George thing. Sure, just give her my number so we can talk it over.” 

 

“Are you sure Seb won’t mind?” Chris questioned me with a smug smirk directed at Seb. “Aren’t you supposed to be walking your dog somewhere?” Seb fired back amiably making the smirk Chris was sporting widen considerably. “Yeah, yeah. I’m going. I’ll see you guys around.” Seb and I stood up from our seats to trail after Chris and Dodger as they left the shop. With a hug from Chris and another sloppy kiss from Dodger, Seb and I watched the two happily walk away from the Nook. “Why do I have a feeling that I’m going to get dragged to the pet store today?” Sebastian mused out loud as we went back inside the store. “I don’t know what you’re talking about but since you mentioned it, I do have some things to buy from the pet store.” Sebastian snorted and crossed his arms in front of him, his gaze immediately going to the displayed baked goods at the counter. “Why not just get Chris to bring Dodger’s things here when he drops him off?” He continued after nodding towards the last four pieces of pan au chocolat on display to Samantha and ordering his usual large cup of flat white to go with it. “It’ll just be a hassle for Chris to lug around all those things whenever he needs me to look after Dodger. It’d be more convenient for the both of us if I just bought Dodger another set of those things for here.” As I said this, I walked around the counter to punch in Seb’s order at the register while Samantha fixed his order for him. “Shit, I should’ve asked him what brand of dog food he buys for Dodger. Should I buy him a small bed?” 

 

“Yeah, I think I’ll have that for to go Sam.” Sebastian called out to my barista who shared a commiserating look with him about my preoccupied state. “I’m pretty sure your boss will not rest until we go to the pet store.”

 

“Who’s going to the pet store?” Jonathan piped up from behind the door leading to the kitchen, his head popping out behind Samantha. “Us.” I answered distractedly as I looked up my message thread with Chris on my phone to text him about Dodger’s diet and allergies. Does dogs get allergies? Eh, won’t hurt to ask. Better safe than sorry. “Right. So did you order those plants for pick up or for delivery?” Jonathan inquired sweetly as he bent sideways to peer at me with hands clasped together. “Fuck!” I groaned out loud in dawning realization. “Seriously, how do you even function without me?” He asked rhetorically which made me look up from my phone and direct a hopeful gaze up at him. “Mmm. No, sorry. Don’t feel like it. No.” He answered to my silent question with a faux sweet smile before his attention was immediately dragged away by a cute customer coming in. I let out another groan then faced Seb sheepishly. “How do you feel about taking a side trip to pick up some plants before going to the pet store?” We stared at each other for a second or two. He raised his eyebrows slightly and that’s when I figured out that he was just waiting for me to get my stuff so we can leave. “Right, sorry. I’ll just get my stuff.” I was about to run upstairs to my office when I caught myself just in time and turned back to ask Seb, “Um, did you drive here or did you take an Uber?”

 

“Uber. Why? Do you need my car? How many plants are we even talking about?” I waved off his barrage of questions and distractedly replied, “It’s fine. I’ll just borrow Ian’s pick up. Don’t worry, I’ll drive.”

 

“You’ll - wait, what.You know how to drive?” He called after me in astonishment as I made my way again towards the stairs leading up to the second floor. “Since when? And why is it that I drive you around all the time?” I couldn’t help but giggle slightly as I heard Jonathan’s caustic reply on my behalf. “Why would she drive when she has an unemployed Hollywood actor to do it for her?” 


	8. A Girl and Her Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to:   
> \- this site for Sebastian's photo (http://rebloggy.com/post/my-gif-1k-sebastian-stan-i-hate-u-but-i-love-u-look-at-him-ahh-dumb-romanian-pup/85451133959)
> 
> Note:   
> I tried writing this in Seb's perspective but it seemed a better fit for the reader's perspective as I wrote it. I promise, Seb's point of view is up next. I hope you like it and I can't wait to hear what you thought about it :)

                                                                     

 

I stared at my reflection from my personal bathroom at the office and looked critically at my work. Although I’m not an expert when it comes to makeup, I felt pretty confident that I did a pretty good job this time around. My eyeliner was on point, eyebrows filled in greatly, and the lip color I chose matches the flush on my cheeks perfectly. I stepped back from the sink, turning sideways to check my outfit. It was still summer, so I felt that this black off shoulder midi dress I bought online would be perfect for my date today. It’s casual, but dressy enough for a lunch out at a quaint restaurant in New York. The only thing missing was my matching black ankle strap chunky heels that I left outside at my office. With a glance at my watch, I saw that my date was most likely downstairs already, making me hurriedly stow away my cosmetics to go back to my office. I pulled out a drawer on my desk and placed my makeup kit there before sitting down on my plush office chair to put on my heels. Once I’m done, I grabbed my small bag from the desk and checked if I had everything I needed. With one last appraisal of my look, I smiled giddily to myself and headed downstairs to meet the gentleman waiting for me. It’s been awhile since we last saw each other and I was filled with excited energy at the prospect of seeing him again. It’s been AGES since I last saw him. And though texting, emailing, and even calling had tide us over since our last meeting, he’s a man after my own heart who prefers to converse face to face (and preferably over a steaming cup of freshly brewed coffee). That’s why by the time I reached the foot of our stairs, it didn’t take me long to catch sight of his tall frame seated at his usual table by my section. A huge smile lit up my features at seeing him once more and I didn’t hold myself back when I cried, “YOU’RE HERE!” across the room. Familiar eyes looked up from the book he was reading and he was about to greet me warmly in turn when my view of him was blocked by a tall man engulfing me in a tight hug.

 

Strong arms wrapped around my waist, slightly hoisting me from the ground that I had to grip the man’s shoulders to maintain my balance. It took me awhile to recognize who was bear hugging me in the middle of the store until I heard the distinct slow and husky voice of Sebastian Stan greeting me just as happily. “Hello, to you too.” He pulled back from our hug, large hands settling on my waist as he grinned at me. “That’s different than usual. Did they announce that they’re going to do another Doctor Who reunion?” I blinked up at him, still surprised at this odd turn of events, making his grin turn puzzled when I still did not make any reply. His eyes then took in my face and the rest of my outfit, eyebrows shooting up in mild surprise. “You look nice.” Seb concluded with a slight furrow of his brow. “Are you going somewhere?” Thank god for makeup. At least I could pass off that the heat radiating from my face isn’t because of his offhand compliment but really just blusher I put on minutes ago. “Um, actually I-”

 

“I believe the greeting was meant for me.” Another voice interrupted, cutting me off mid-stammer. Seb - who was still yet to let go of me - and I simultaneously faced the new comer who was watching our interaction curiously. The older gentleman was slightly taller than Sebastian, wearing a dry fit polo neck shirt, tan chinos, oxford shoes, and horn rimmed glasses. At the sight of him, I immediately stepped away from Sebastian’s arms and bit my lip as I timidly greeted him. “Hi, Papa.”

 

“Papa?” Seb repeated in a choked up voice, wide eyes turning to the other man’s amused ones. “Uh, yeah. Papa, meet Sebastian Stan, a... friend of mine.” I awkwardly patted Seb’s shoulder. “Seb, meet... my grandfather, Rudolfo Y/M/N.” My grandfather offered his hand to Seb who mechanically shook it with his own as he made his apologies. “I’m sorry, sir. I thought she was greeting me, uh-”

 

“It’s fine. I can see how you’d make the mistake. We were both in her line of sight when she came downstairs.” Papa gave a slight nod to Seb before returning his full attention to me. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders to give me a brief hug, pecking my forehead in the process. “Hello, darling. Are you ready to go?” I smiled at my grandfather with a nod in confirmation as I shouldered my bag completely and had him lead the way out. When I was sure that Papa wasn’t looking, I hastily grabbed Seb’s arm to brace myself as I gave him a peck on the cheek in greeting. “Sorry. I’ll see you later.” I told him sheepishly before giving him a wave in goodbye as I followed Papa out of the shop.

 

“Where do you want to have lunch? Your grandfather is feeling pretty generous today.” Papa announced as we continued walking to his rental car. “I know it’s not your birthday but do you want to eat at Lorenzo’s?” Lorenzo is a family owned restaurant in New York that my mother discovered when I was still in high school. The first time she took the entire family there was for my birthday because her co-worker recommended it to her when she was looking for a nice place where we could celebrate. That was perhaps the first recollection that I have of falling in love. With food, that is. It was the best culinary experience I’ve ever had to date. The risotto I had with Seb on our first brunch together came close but nothing beats Lorenzo’s truffle cream pasta. It’s a fucking masterpiece and I only allow myself to eat such a luxury during my birthday out of tradition which my entire family knows. “Or would you prefer going to McDonald’s like we did when you were little?” I scrunched my nose at his teasing but it did remind me of a craving I’ve been having for awhile now. “Mmmmm, I’ll take a raincheck on the Happy Meal but is it okay if we go to Shake Shack at Madison Square instead?”

 

“Are you sure you don’t want to eat anywhere else?” He inquired as we buckled inside the rental. “Positive. So when are you going to meet up with your old crew Papa?” A fond smile graced my grandfather’s features as he talked to me about what he and his drinking buddies have got planned during his visit to New York. We spent the rest of the ride in this manner, catching up with each other and sharing amusing anecdotes until we reached Madison Square Park.

 

There wasn’t a lot of people around the area that’s why it didn’t take long for us to order and settle in one of the tables set up at the place. I was stuffing my single SmokeShack burger with fries when Papa, after taking a sip of his coke, suddenly asked, “So, are you two dating?”

 

“What?” I choked on my own spit, caught off guard at the random question. “Dating who? I’m not - seeing anyone Papa.” My grandfather peered at me dubiously above his glasses. “I may be old but I’m not senile. I’m talking about that Sebastian Stan you introduced to me awhile ago. You expect me to believe that you two aren’t dating after that hug?”

 

“It was just a hug between friends. We’re friends.” I pulled a weird face at Papa, very much wanting to move on from the conversation because it was nearing dangerous territory. “I mean, he’s way, waaaaayyyyy out of my league, so - no. We’re not. We’re not dating. Pffttt.”

 

“How is he way out of your league? Because he’s an actor?” My grandfather reacted indignantly, unsurprisingly upset at the idea of me belittling myself. His comment made me narrow my eyes at him slightly. “Hold on. You knew who Seb was?” I asked him slowly, my mind trying to figure out how my grandfather knows who Sebastian Stan was let alone his profession. My grandfather who couldn’t even bother to turn on the television to watch the evening news because he prefers to read it on the paper. “Of course I know. You think your mother would miss the chance on telling me and your grandmother about what happened to you at some comic convention. Fracturing your wrist over some actor who couldn’t even carry you properly. You’re lucky that your father’s brother was around to look out for you after your surgery.” I winced at his scolding tone, fully intending on having a word with my mother about filtering the things she says to my grandparents. Is it too much to ask that she not broadcast to the entirety of our extended family that incident? There IS such a thing as over sharing, Mom.

 

Jesus.

 

“He didn’t drop me. It was my fault.” I explained in a weary voice. I’m beginning to wonder if I should make use of what I learned from college and write a fucking press release just so I won’t have to repeat myself over and over again whenever this topic crops up. “I was too impatient to get down and ended up tripping on my own two feet.”

 

“And now you’re ‘friends’ with him.” Papa added, the tone of voice more than enough to clue me in on the wry emphasis on the word ‘friends’. “Yes, because he’s a fucking nice man.” At this, I shared a brief grin with Papa at our mutual affinity for cursing. Why do you think I curse this much? Spending most of my time with him as a kid was really the root cause why I knew so many curse words as a child. The man uses swear words as punctuation marks to his sentences for fuck’s sake. “As well as Anthony Mackie and Chris Evans, who I **also** became good friends with after that fiasco.”

 

“Are you dating either of them then?” Papa fired back, a fry dripping in ketchup pointed in my direction. “What? NO!” I cried vehemently. “I’m not **dating** any of them. And besides, Anthony is married and Chris is seeing someone.”

 

“But Stan isn’t, right? For a single man, he spends an awful lot of time with you.” He noted with a knowing look. “We’re just friends. We just get along really well that’s why we often hang out together. He’s just someone who’s nice, and kind, and sweet, and smart that I - uh, like spending time with him. Where - where do you even get this idea fro - of course, **Jonathan**.” I heaved out a sigh and dropped my head backwards in exasperation at my assistant manager. Jonathan and I will seriously be having an in depth discussion later about gossipping with my relatives. “Since when have you turned into Mama?” I told my grandfather in a half-joking, half-frustrated tone. “You’re not one to gossip about my affairs, much less my non-existent love life.”

 

“I’m just worried about you.” He told me frankly, concern etched in his features. “Do you know how worried your grandmother and I were when we heard from your mother that you fractured your wrist? I’m not trying to make you guilty.” Papa added when he saw how guilty I looked at his words. “I just wanted to make sure that you’re okay. I know you’re a big girl but that won’t stop me from looking out for you.”

 

“I’m sorry.” I smiled to him apologetically, my burger lying forgotten in front of me. “I know you were used to me talking your ear off about every single detail in my life and it must’ve been a surprise for you to hear about my accident from mom. I was just really embarrassed at how stupid I was, that’s why I didn’t tell you. Forgive me?”

 

“There’s nothing to forgive. Accidents happen, don’t beat yourself over it.” Papa firmly told me. “I just want you to never hesitate in telling me about what’s going on in your life, regardless if it’s stupid or not. Or your grandmother for that matter. We want to know how you truly are and not be kept in the dark. Okay?” I nodded in assent to his request, picking up my forgotten meal once more to take a bite from it. The unmistakable gleam that entered Papa’s eyes made me stop though from taking the said bite, suddenly becoming wary about what he was about to say next. “What did surprise me,” He began as he unwrapped his own burger. “- is to see a man engulf you in such a hug at the middle of your store. Are you sure there’s nothing going on between the two of you?” The teasing tone now is unmistakable and I shot my grandfather a pointed look. “Not this again.” I groaned out loud. “ **Nothing** is going on. We’re just really good friends.”

 

“But do you wish there was something more?” He replied back shrewdly before taking a bite of his meal. I felt heat creep up to my cheeks and I bowed my head so that my hair can cover it while spluttering denial after denial. “What? Pfft. No. I most certainly don’t want anything more. I’m happy with just how things are. I’m lucky enough as it is to call him a friend of mine. It’s fine. I’m good.” I pulled a face to myself, hearing how weird I’m sounding already and decided to just stuff myself with food to stop from letting any more garbage to come out of my mouth. Papa, popping another french fry into his mouth, shot me a knowing look. “As opposed to how my previous grilling I was giving you awhile ago may seem, I’m not one to dictate on who you should date. My word never stopped my children from dating, what more my grandchildren?” We both shared a laugh out loud at this, knowing full well which among his four children he was specifically talking about, i.e. my mother. “However, a word of advice from your old man, it’s better to take a risk and be honest with your feelings than be riddled with what ifs for the rest of your life.” I chewed my lips at his words that hit a bit close to home. “Speaking from experience?” I asked him in a joking manner, trying to mask the fact that a feeling of confusion is mounting deep inside of me from conflicting thoughts brought on by his word of advice. A smirk bloomed across Papa’s features, making his answer already known to me. I smiled in spite of the conflict I was feeling, and followed his lead as he took the last bite of his burger.

 

After the meal we shared, we spent the rest of the afternoon aimlessly walking around New York until my grandfather called it a night and drove me back to the shop. “Are we still on for tomorrow?” I asked him, waiting patiently for his confirmation before I alighted the rental car. “Yes. I already have the tickets for the show tomorrow. I’ll let you know if I’m on my way.” He replied without missing a beat. “You know I could just meet you at your hotel and drive for you while you’re in town? Actually, why did you even book a hotel? You could have just stayed with me at my place Papa.” My grandfather scowled at me as he explained plainly, “I am not an invalid to be chauffeured around by my own granddaughter. I also highly doubt that neither of us would enjoy sleeping at your couch no matter how much you profess it to be comfortable. So, it’s better that I stay at a hotel.” He made a show of unlocking the car doors and giving me a nod to alight the car. “Besides, your apartment doesn’t have those complimentary items that your grandmother loves so much. I am under strict orders that I can’t come home without a luggage full of complimentary hotel toiletries.”

 

“Okay, okay. You made your point.” I acquiesced, palms raised up in surrender before I opened the car door on my side. “If I know, you’re just going to go drinking with Quentin and the others, and you don’t want me to cramp your style.” My grandfather raised a brow as if to say, “So?”

 

“Alright, jeez. I’m going.” I told him with a huff of laughter as I finally stepped out of the rental car. With a final wave of goodbye, I slammed the car door shut and watched as Papa sped off to god knows where. I shook my head slightly, finding the entire situation ironic. At 89 years old, my grandfather acts more like my age than I do. I turned around and headed back towards the shop, more than ready to change into my jeans and loose shirt. I smiled in greeting towards the customers that I passed by. As I neared the counter, Samantha greeted me with a, “How you doing boss? Lunch with Uncle Rudy, good?”

 

“Yeah, it was great.” I replied back with a satisfied grin. “Where’s everyone?” The shop was not crowded at the moment so I didn’t mind that it was only her and Ian - who was helping out an elderly couple choose a book to purchase - watching over the place. “Oh, Jonathan’s at your office arguing with our supplier about something or the other. Ari is out at the back, checking the inventory for the kitchens, and... Jaime is taking a quick smoke break.” I nodded at her explanation and asked, “Do you need any help here? I’ll just change real quick. I can be down here in five minutes tops.” But Samantha merely waved me off, insisting that she and Ian can handle things from here. “I’ll let you know if we need an extra pair of hands.” She promised when I still hesitated on leaving the two of them on their own. With another shooing motion from her, I finally relented and made my way upstairs towards my office.

 

And just as Samantha mentioned, Jonathan was indeed at my office, sitting languidly at my office chair as he listened to someone over the phone. He greeted me with a silent, “Hi.” before frowning and making his retort to our supplier. “Mmm, not good enough, Charles. I said, I wanted heat sensitive mugs. Does this mock up look heat sensitive to you?” When I figured this call would take awhile, I simply pointed at my personal bathroom to Jonathan and headed there without waiting for his reply. As soon as the bathroom door closed behind me, I quickly changed to the wear worn boyfriend jeans and shirt that I had on this morning, washed my face free from any remnants of makeup, and pulled my hair into a ponytail. Once I was done, I cleaned up after my mess, then stepped out to my office where Jonathan was still deeply immersed in a one sided debate with our supplier. “You’re not getting it Charles. I want a mug that would gradually show my face to its owner to remind them of how I’ve blessed their life with my presence whenever they’re drinking a hot beverage.” Jonathan stretched out his long legs before him and stared at his cuticles in boredom as Charles made his reply. “Charles, Charles, Charles, just heed Nike’s words of wisdom. I want a mock up by next week. I’m hanging up now, byeeeeee.” A tiny garbled frustrated cry of, “Jonathan!” could be heard from the other end of the line as Jonathan ended the call with Charles and I gave the other man a quizzical look. “I thought that your phone call was about merch that we’re planning on selling at the shop?”

 

“Oh, you meant those?” He pointed at the open box lying next to my desk where numerous mock ups for the shop’s merchandise could be seen peeking out of its paper wrapping. “I’ve just done the proofing on those. That call was for a more important order.”

 

“You mean your face plastered on heat sensitive mugs?” I asked him sarcastically. “What else?” He fired easily without so much as glancing up from the game he was playing on his phone. “By the way, I let Hobo Ken use your printer awhile ago as well as your laptop. He’s at the Reading Room right now.” I glanced behind me as if I would see Seb through the door of my office into the Reading Room. “What did he need the printer for?” I asked Jonathan but upon hearing my question, I beat his ass to it and pointed out the flaw in my question. “Don’t. I heard what I said.”

 

“See? I’m so proud of you.” Jonathan gave a show of clapping for me obnoxiously. “You went from a Jon Snow to a Sansa Stark.” I leveled an unamused stare at him and reminded him, “You do know that you’re in my office?” And for the second time that day, I was served the same look by Jonathan that my grandfather gave to me before he dropped me off. I flipped him off and left my smirking assistant manager to his own devices as I headed towards the Reading Room right next door.

 

The Reading Room was a recent addition to the shop as my little side project that sort of escalated the more I entertained ideas on what we could do with the place. With the help of a shit ton of people (ranging from Anthony to my Dad), I was able to convince my landlord to let me do a few more renovations to the spacious area such as:

  * Fitting low Ikea bookshelves on all sides of the room;
  * Completely redoing our flooring by lowering the level of ¾ of the room which I then filled with mattresses; and
  * Installing new blackout curtains to go with the projector we bought for intimate movie screenings.



 

It’s been a hit ever since we’ve finished with the flooring, and like most of our regulars, it’s become one of Sebastian’s favorite spots in the shop. Considering Sebastian and I share a mutual fondness for reading, binge watching movies and tv series, and generally, lazing around, I’m not surprised why he’s taken a liking to a space which I designed just for the aforementioned activities. Upon entering the room, I was immediately greeted by the sight of Sebastian on his own, surrounded by papers, my laptop balanced across his thighs, with a pen tucked across his lips while he busied himself with typing. I toed off my mules, and set them aside on the caddy we installed to store shoes by the door. “Hey.” I greeted him quietly, mindful of disturbing his concentration as I padded across the room to sit next to him. He glanced up from my laptop and shot me a wide smile. “Hey, you’re back.” He grabbed a handful of papers, stashing it at his opposite side to give space for me to sit next to him. “How was lunch? I’m really sorry about, you know.” He shrugged his shoulders, his smile turning sheepish. “Dude, it’s fine. I should’ve been more specific when I made that greeting.”

 

“Really?” He questioned me, giving me a look of disbelief. “You’re taking the blame on this one too?” I snorted out a laugh as I tugged my legs to sit cross legged. “Alright, alright. Let’s just both agree that it can happen to the best of us and just drop the entire thing altogether.”

 

“Deal. So, how was lunch with your granddad?” He asked me curiously, the task he was doing just a few seconds ago, laid forgotten in front of him. “It was okay. He kind of called me out for not telling me about my accident and the fact that he had to hear it from my mom instead of me. But otherwise, it was great. I finally got to sate that Shake Shack craving I’ve been having and we walked all over the place before he dropped me off here.” I recounted to him as I reached out a hand to a stray leaf of paper in front of me which turned out to be a page from a script. “New movie?” I asked him as my eyes took in the little annotations he made on the paper about the characters and the situation that they’re in. “Yeah, my agent just emailed me a copy of the script before you came back.” He tilted my laptop facing towards my direction as he selected the tab for his email on the browser to show me his agent’s email referencing the script and detailing the information they have on the character he’s slated to play. The numerous tabs opened in the browser was enough to clue me in on the fact that he was in the middle of doing further research when I came into the room. “Is that what you printed at my office?” I asked him, accompanied by a grabby hand gesture on the rest of the script next to him. Sebastian set down my laptop and gathered all the papers around him to hand to me. “Yeah. I hope you don’t mind?” He told me apologetically, the corners of his lips tilting down in a frown. I waved off his apology, my attention already being taken in by the few sentences I read from the script, “It’s fine since you have been driving me around the city even if you didn’t have to. Let’s just call it quits.”

 

“Deal.” He replied with a grin and a slight shake of his head, most likely still not over the fact that I knew how to drive stick shift all this time without telling him. “Is it okay if I read this?” I then asked him as he resumed typing up notes from his research. “Or is it confidential like the shit you do for Marvel?”

 

“Isn’t it too late for you to be asking that since you’ve already seen a page from it?” Seb shot back distractedly. “I know, I was just asking to be polite.” He snorted under his breath as his reply while he continued on doing his research. I then followed his lead and began rearranging all the loose leaves of his script into consecutive order so that I could read from the beginning. I tugged at several pillows to place behind me as I settled down to begin reading the script. In a matter of seconds, my surroundings began to fade with every word I read from the script in my hands. Along with the numerous emotions the script triggered in me, I would laugh every now and then at the sardonic annotations Sebastian would leave for his character. With each passing moment however, I found my eyes feeling heavier as I read on. Even though the story’s narrative was very compelling in the script, my exhaustion from all the excitement today finally caught up to me, making me drowsier as I kept on reading. Without meaning to, my eyes closed shut while my hands, still holding onto Seb’s script, fell to my sides.

 

When I finally woke up from a surprisingly deep sleep, the first thing I noticed was that my face was pressed against a soft but firm material which was unlike the plush pillows I personally selected for the Reading Room. As I pulled my face away, my eyes nearly popped out of its socket when I realized that the soft material was in fact Seb’s blue jumper and what I found to be firm was Seb’s left bicep that I was using as an improvised pillow. To make things ~~better~~ worse, I noticed that from lying prone on my back, I was now curled up next to his left side with my left arm wrapped around his left arm, and my right hand loosely held by his left hand. I hastily pulled myself away from Sebastian which made him drag his attention from the script he held up in front of him. He put down the script beside him and sat up as I did, gracing me with his typical heart stopping smile. “You’re up. Did you get a good sleep?” Heat creeped up on my cheeks when I recalled the position I found myself in and I couldn’t look him straight in the eye as I made my response. “I did, thank you. I’m really sorry about - uh, that.” I waved a hand in the general direction of his left side. “It’s fine.” He began tidying up the rest of the papers surrounding us that he must have discarded as he read on. “You looked like you needed the nap and I didn’t mind. Believe me, I was close to dozing off after you if you didn’t wake up just now.” The image of the both of us asleep with me curled up next to him and still holding hands came unbidden into my head making me feel more embarrassed. He chuckled at the guilty look I was sporting and tugged at the ends of my ponytail. I cleared my throat and glanced around the room to avoid his gaze that was doing things to my heart and sanity. “Did you get to finish doing your research?” I asked him as my eyes caught sight of my laptop closed and set aside on one of the low levelled shelves, eager to change the current topic of conversation. “Yeah, I finished by the time I noticed you nodded off next to me. I settled down next to you after that, and have been rereading the script since then.” It dawned on me that that by unintentionally using Seb as a pillow, I most likely have kept him far longer here than he initially intended. “You really should have woken me up.” I groaned to him with a grimace, guilt eating me up completely. “It’s not as if I’m in dire need of sleep. I’m sure you have better plans than being used as a pillow.” Sebastian rolled his eyes and tucked his script under his arm as he stood up. He then offered his hand to help me stand up as well which I took gratefully. However, before I could slip my hand away from his, Sebastian tightened his grip slightly to catch my attention. “Seriously, don’t worry about it, okay?” Seb squeezed my hand reassuringly, giving me a rueful grin. “Come on, Ian actually came in awhile ago to tell me that they’ll close up in awhile. Let’s get your things and help clean up, then we can go have dinner.” He tugged our clasped hands and led the way towards the caddy, so that we could pick up our shoes on the way to my office. I was about to lean down to grab my own pair but he beat me to it (as usual) and placed my mules carefully in front of me. “Thank you.” I murmured to him shyly as I slid my feet onto my mules, then silently watched him kneel down to tie his own sneakers properly. Once he finished tying his laces, I was thrown off when he took my hand once more as we made our way to my office. I swallowed thickly and forcibly made myself focus my gaze straight ahead.

 

Don’t look Y/L/N.

 

Don’t you dare fucking look.

 

Don’t you even dare **think** about the fact that you’re holding hands.

 

Eep.

 

While I was busy trying to prevent myself from having a mental breakdown over the fact that Sebastian and I are holding hands, Seb on the other hand, seemed oblivious to my internal conflict as he picked up where we left off. “Where do you feel like eating? I kind of feel like going for Italian but I’ve also been craving Chinese food since last week. What do you think?”

 

“Hmm, oh. What? Sorry, I was spacing out.” I hastily replied when Sebastian ducked his head to be eye level with me after it took me some time to reply to his question. “I was just wondering what would you prefer, Chinese takeout or Italian?” He repeated once more, patiently waiting for my reply. I made to grab my bag where I left it on my desk just so that I could compose myself properly before making any attempts at responding. “Sorry, Seb.” I shot him a brief apologetic smile. “I don’t think I can come with you if you feel like dining out. I’m kind of beat. Chinese sounds good though if you want to just hang at my place.” Upon closing my office door shut, I felt a slight pang once I realize that I’d have to let go of his hand to lock my door behind me. What the fuck is wrong with me? It’s not as if we’ve started a habit of hand holding as friends overnight. It’s not a big deal if we don’t do it again.

 

It **would** be nice though if we did.

 

Oh well, it was great while it lasted.

 

However, it turns out that I worried for nothing because just as I finished pocketing my keys, Sebastian reached out his hand for me to take.

 

Oh. My. God.

 

I guess, hand holding’s our thing now?

 

Holy shit.

 

We descended the stairs in this manner, with Sebastian carrying most of the conversation whereas I was reduced to mono-syllabic answers or my typical stammering. “I’m down for hanging out at your place. Which reminds me, I still owe you a 2 Broke Girls marathon. Do you want to do it tonight?” I nodded automatically when Seb gave me a questioning look over his shoulders. The smile he flashed in my direction at my assent, made my heart momentarily stop. And for some reason, not matter what I did, that was the only thing I could see. He was the only thing I could see: the way he talked, the way he’d bite his lip, how his brow would furrow in thought, or how his hand would push back his hair absentmindedly as he continued making plans for the rest of the evening down to what we’d watch after finishing 2 Broke Girls. And in all of that, the only thing that I could think about is how I wished we could always hang out like this, planning a quiet night in with chinese food and netflix. However as soon as I entertained that traitorous thought in my head, I recalled Papa’s parting question to me, “ _But do you wish there was something more?”_

Do I?

 

Am I that greedy to want something more from a great friendship with him?

 

Or am I just confusing my feelings as his fan to my feelings as his friend?

 

I stared at my feet, dragging it despondently alongside Seb’s long strides, as I mulled over these thoughts and knowing full well that regardless of their answers, I am still fucked.


	9. A Boy and a Musical

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to:
> 
> \- pinterest for Seb's jaw clenching photo and my peg for his outfit  
> \- http://whotheeffisbucky.tumblr.com/post/147601425849/possession-sebastian-stan-x-reader for the lip licking gif of Seb  
> \- the official website of Louboutin for the So Kate shoes  
> \- the official website of ASOS for the black jumpsuit
> 
> Notes:   
> So, here's the new chapter written in Seb's POV. I hope you enjoy it! Peg for Seb's outfit and the reader's outfit is linked throughout the story.

                                 

“Oh look, Hobo Ken’s back.” Jonathan intoned as I stepped inside the Nook. I tugged away my earphones and pulled back my hoodie as I levelled a weary look at him. “You really need to start making better material than that.”

 

“Really, Stan? It’s like a battle of wits with an eight year old. Keep up.” Jonathan challenged in a bored tone, lips curling in a self-satisfied manner. “I’m just dumbing it down for you. Wouldn’t want you to run out of inane things to say on Twitter. I’m sure the Twitter Bots will miss them.” I fired back, my amusement becoming more apparent especially when Jonathan grudgingly yielded with a purse of his lips and a slow contemplative nod. “Oh, not bad. At least you’re making an effort. So, the usual then?”

 

“Who’s not making an effort?” I asked him curiously as I scanned through the display of baked goods lined up on the counter. “I think I might need something stronger than that. I’ll just get a double shot espresso and a croissant. For here.” I added while I watched Jonathan ring up my order with Samantha maneuvering behind him to fix me a cup of coffee. “I’m giving you far too much credit if you even have to ask.” Jonathan commented wryly as he closed the register firmly. “Don’t mind him. He’s just annoyed at boss.” Jaime piped up at Jonathan’s right, grinning at Jonathan smugly as she set the tray ladden with my order in front of me. The pinched expression that flitted through the usual stoic face of Jonathan piqued my interest and I glanced around the rest of the shop to spot Y/N, curious to know what exactly happened to cause such a reaction from him. “Where is she anyway?”  


“Upstairs.” Was the terse reply I received from Jonathan while Samantha proved to be more helpful than her superior by adding, “She’s in her office. She’s in the middle of a Skype call with Chris Evans and one of his producers about us being a part of their craft services. Jonathan here,” She jabbed a finger at Jonathan’s side. “- was initially included in the meeting, that is, until he started hitting on Chris. Boss wasn’t having it so, she kicked him out.” At her explanation, Jonathan scoffed and said, “I have a very engaging personality. Is it my fault if I was more interesting than what she was talking about?”

 

I shot Jonathan a dubious look, knowing full well that Y/N must have had to manhandle the other man out of the room just to stop him from derailing the entire meeting altogether. But before I could make a comment, in typical fashion, Jonathan has already lost interest at the present conversation when he was alerted to a notification from his phone. “Are we not done here yet? Because I’m in the middle of a Twitter feud with some reality star from Bravo, and I’m winning. As per uge.” I opened my mouth to reply but the slight shake of Samantha’s head made me reconsider the thought and instead picked up my order with a nod of thanks to the barista. With the tray in one hand, I sauntered to my table at Y/N’s section and set it at the acrylic table carefully before taking off my backpack to place in a seat on my right. I then slid on my seat to start working on my research for this new role, pushing the tray slightly away from me to give room for my MacBook. As I waited for my laptop to start to life, I pulled out my phone and was about to resume listening to my playlist when I heard the familiar notes of _Alexander Hamilton_ playing over the Nook’s soundsystem. Ian, who was passing by my table caught my eye and flashed me a grin. “Hamilton, huh?” I commented, pertaining to the opening track of the musical loudly playing over the speakers. “I’m guessing she’s really excited about the show later.”

 

“I wouldn’t say excited. More like, super fucking hyped for it. Just be glad you weren’t here when we opened shop. She was belting out _That Would Be Enough_. Ari and Jaime was no help either, cause they jumped to sing back up just when people started coming in for their morning cup of coffee.” Ian recounted ruefully with a slight shake of his head. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice when you came in. The entire bloody soundtrack has been on repeat since this morning. She put her foot down and said it’ll play until she’s sick of it.”

 

“So, about a month then?” I replied with a grin, picturing in my head Y/N going about her business at the shop singing and rapping along to the soundtrack of her favorite musical. “Yep. That sounds about right. You’re grinning now, but just wait until you can’t take another day listening to Lin-Manuel Miranda whenever you hang out.” He gave me a knowing look which made me rethink about letting Y/N have control over my car’s soundsystem whenever she rides with me. A customer from the opposite side of the room called out Ian’s attention and the other man gave me a slap on the back in parting before heading towards the awaiting man’s side. I glanced at my earphones in consideration at Ian’s words, then stowed it away in my backpack along with my phone to opt listening to the rest of the soundtrack to prepare myself for the rest of the following weeks where I’d most likely be hearing it non-stop. If you can’t beat them; join them, right?

 

With that in mind, I opened the document containing my research and an internet browser to continue where I left off last night before Y/N distracted me mid-research. The unbidden image of her dozing off next to me came to my mind just as Google started loading on my browser and I couldn’t keep the smile from my face at this thought.

 

Get a grip Stan, you’ll see her soon enough.

 

I shook my head slightly and directed my focus on the work at hand. This research isn’t going to do itself and I really need to concentrate if I want to nail this role. Several minutes passed after this, my focus solely directed at the information I was researching with the sound of my typing and Hamilton’s soundtrack serving as my background music. That is, until my concentration was broken when _Satisfied_ was paused just as Angelica was about to croon the three fundamental truths she realized at the exact same time. I looked up from my laptop to see what caused the track to stop and saw Jonathan taking out Y/N’s phone from his pocket as it vibrated incessantly while he indicated to Jaime to replace the music he just paused. I watched on curiously as he slid a finger across its screen and brought it up to his ear, most likely answering a call. “Professor! I heard that you were in town.” I know that eavesdropping on someone else’s conversation is rude but considering its Jonathan answering a call clearly meant for Y/N, then all bets are off. Someone’s got to make sure he doesn’t do anything funny while Y/N isn’t around. “It’s a shame that I didn’t get to catch you while you were here yesterday.” Jonathan, who was standing a few steps away from the counter, started walking towards the empty table next to mine as he listened to the person at the other end of the line. He pulled out a chair and sat on it, crossing his legs as he made his reply. “She’s upstairs. She’s on a meeting with Chris Evans and one of his producers. They sent a proposal about us being a part of their craft services.” When I caught Jonathan’s eye, I quirked an eyebrow at him, silently questioning him for answering somebody else’s call to which he replied by just raising his middle finger at me. I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms in front of me as I leaned back in my chair to continue on watching him. “I would be, if only your granddaughter just realized that my vivacious personality is a part of what makes me a great business partner. Along with my great hair and bloodlust.” At this, Jonathan pulled out his own phone to probably check his Twitter feed while I, on the other hand, had to make a double take upon hearing him say the word, ‘ _granddaughter_.’ Is he **talking** to Y/N’s **grandfather**?

 

“Mmmm. BT Dubs, I’m suing you for damages professor. I’ve had to suffer through an entire morning of nothing but Hamilton songs because of your thing later. There’s a reason why people don’t go, ‘ _it’s all about the Hamiltons_ ’ rather than ‘ _it’s all about the Benjamins_ ’. Kris Jenner has more business acumen than Alexander Hamilton ever did.” Aaaaaaand... that confirms it. Jonathan is definitely talking to Y/N’s grandfather, making me mime urgently to the other man to put down the goddamn phone. In return, Jonathan just smirked at me unapologetically. However, Y/N’s grandfather must have said something to catch Jonathan’s attention because he went from languidly sitting in his chair to sitting up ramrod straight, a certain gleam coming into his eyes at what he heard next. “Oh, dang. Quentin has been holding out on me. Whore, you know how I love a good scotch.” My eyes nearly popped out at his words, unable to fathom how Jonathan can say those very words to Y/N’s grandfather, of all people. He then grew quiet as he continued listening to Mr. Y/M/N, the calculating look he was sporting making me grow even more concerned especially when a sly smirk bloomed across his features. “I got you boo. Talk to you soon. Byyyyyeeeee.” He put down Y/N’s phone after ending the call with Mr. Y/M/N and immediately called out Jaime’s attention. “Be a lamb, and check what Y/N is wearing upstairs.”,

 

“But she’s in the middle of a meeting.” Jaime responded with a puzzled frown. “Who cares? It’s just Evans.” Jonathan remarked brazenly, shooing Jaime up to the second floor with a wave of his hands. “What are you up to?” I asked him outright, staring him down suspiciously. “What did Y/N’s grandfather say?”

 

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Stan.” Jonathan told me saucily. “I heard about your little incident yesterday.”

 

“It was an accident, and I apologized to him about it already.” I replied to him in a weary tone, the meaningful look he was directing at me making me feel discomfited. “And the hand holding? Was that an accident too?” Jonathan commented archly, his grin turning shark-like when he noticed me swallowing thickly at his words. I was about to make my case about his remark when Jaime came bounding down the stairs to come at a stop next to Jonathan. “She’s wearing that black [jumpsuit](https://images.asos-media.com/products/asos-jumpsuit-with-kimono-sleeve-and-peg-leg/8804906-1-black?%24XL%24?%24XXL%24&wid=300&fmt=jpeg&qlt=80,0&op_sharpen=0&resMode=sharp2&op_usm=1,0.4,6,1&iccEmbed=0&printRes=72) she bought from ASOS.”

 

“Shoes?” Jonathan inquired with a quirk of his brow. “Nude [Louboutins](http://images.us.christianlouboutin.com/media/catalog/product/cache/1/thumbnail/1200x/602f0fa2c1f0d1ba5e241f914e856ff9/3/1/3/0/christianlouboutin-sokate-3130694_PK1A_1_1200x1200_1511939703.jpg) that you gave her for her birthday.” Jaime replied promptly with a purse of her lips. The look Y/N must be sporting must have surpassed Jonathan’s expectations as he gave an impressed glance at the stairs leading up to Y/N’s office and the Reading Room. “Shouldn’t you have known that already since you were with her awhile ago?” I asked quizzically to Jonathan who appeared to becoming contemplative. “It wasn’t relevant then.” He answered distractedly, before turning to look up at Jaime once more who was still standing by him expectantly. “What was the vibe of the room?”

 

“It seemed like they were about to wrap up their meeting. I’d put on boss’ music again if I were you.” Jaime warned Jonathan to which the latter merely waved off flippantly. “She’s bound to get down here in a couple of minutes.” When Jonathan made no move to do as Jaime adviced, opting to stare blankly into space instead as he ruminated over god knows what, I stood up from my seat with a defeated sigh and picked up Y/N’s phone to hand to Jaime. She gave me a smile in thanks and immediately unlocked her boss’ phone to connect it to the shop’s soundsystem. Does all of Y/N’s staff know her fucking passcode?

 

Soon, another track from the musical started playing in replacement of the smooth jazz that took its place temporarily. I glanced down at Jonathan who has yet to say another word about whatever he and Y/N’s grandfather talked about, and I was about to question him again on the said conversation when I stopped upon hearing Y/N’s distinct voice singing along with the song playing throughout the shop. I turned around just in time to see Y/N come down the stairs, enthusiastically rapping, wearing (just as Jaime described) a black jumpsuit and sky high nude Louboutins. I couldn’t help but stare as she stepped completely into the shop with her hair down framing her face as she adorably rapped along to the music with Jaime, who served as her backup vocal. The rest of the regulars of the shop ignored the spectacle they were putting on, most likely used to these kinds of shenanigans from Y/N and her staff, while Ian and Samantha just looked on in amusement. When the song appeared to be coming to its end, Y/N glanced across the shop and met my eyes, her face flushing a becoming pink in embarrassment. She grinned at me sheepishly and easily maneuvered across the shop in her heels until she came to a stop in front of me and Jonathan. “Hey, long time no see.” I snorted out a laugh at her greeting as I met her halfway to engulf her in a hug. I pulled back from her and shoved my hands in my pockets to keep myself from further reaching out to her. “Like we didn’t just spend the entirety of last night binge watching 2 Broke Girls at your apartment.” I told her wryly. “How was your meeting with Chris?”

 

“Eh, it was fine. We just went over the details of their proposal.” She shrugged her shoulders casually but the smile she was sporting betrayed her excitement at the prospect of a great venture for the shop. And in typical fashion, Y/N’s train of thought immediately jumped from one topic to another randomly, when her eyes lit up and she grabbed my hoodie’s sleeve in excitement. “Seb, I forgot to tell you. I remembered that movie I was talking to you about last night. You know, the one that my professor showed to us in my film writing elective back in college? I finally figured out what the title was. It’s called, _Living in Oblivion_. I totally forgot that Peter Dinklage was in it. Could we please watch that next? Please, Seb. Pleeeeeeeeaaaassssseeeeee. I promise, I won’t hoard the orange chicken anymore.”

 

“You say that all the time whenever we order chinese takeout but you always inhale all of it before I could even get my chopsticks near a piece. And isn’t it my turn to choose what to watch next? Don’t forget, I also won our bet last time. You still owe me a favor, no questions asked.” Y/N pulled a face at my words, sighing in defeat. “Fine. But I’m totally calling that as my movie pick on my turn.” I rolled my eyes at her petulant tone, fully intending to tease her about it when Jonathan suddenly decided that it was the perfect time to step into our conversation. “Ohhh, I see you’re going to take the lads out for a walk.” He told Y/N with a wink as he stepped in between me and Y/N. “Lads? Are you dog sitting for Chris right now?” I questioned Y/N in puzzled confusion. “No.” Y/N shook her head with a roll of her eyes. “He’s talking about my heels.”

 

“Your heels?” I repeated, getting more confused at the turn of the conversation. “Yeah. He calls them Schwarzenegger and Stallone.” Y/N explained with a shrug of her shoulders to which Jonathan added empatically with, “Yeah, cause they killer baby. Killer.” Not knowing what to say at that, I glanced down to look at the said heels and found myself agreeing to Jonathan’s assessment because Y/N does in fact looked killer in them. However, I was shaken from my straying thoughts when it dawned on me just who was standing next to me. I immediately dragged my eyes away from Y/N’s footwear to stare pointedly at Jonathan. “Isn’t there something you want to tell Y/N?” Jonathan cocked a brow at me before facing Y/N. “Your grandfather called. I answered it, my bad.” He informed Y/N flippantly while the latter blinked at the both of us in mild confusion. “Oh. I forgot I left my phone here. What did he say?” I watched in stupefied amazement as Y/N sat herself down on the seat Jonathan previously occupied, seemingly unfazed at the fact that Jonathan answered a phone call meant for her. Jonathan and I followed suit, the former smirking at me smugly while I looked at Y/N in confusion. “I thought you’d be more worried about Jonathan taking calls from your family.” I commented in a bewildered tone. “Not really. Are those your things? Ian could you – thanks.” Y/N replied distractedly as she intructed Ian to collect my things from the other table, frowning when she noticed my untouched order of double shot espresso and croissant. “My family and Jonathan are fairly close. Actually, Ari too. So, I don’t mind if he answers their call for me. It’s actually a running joke in my family that I’d just end up marrying him out of convenience if I’m still not settled down by the age of forty.”

 

“At the rate of your love life, it’s not a joke anymore but a fact.” Jonathan pointed out sarcastically to his boss. “Oh god.” I uttered unintentionally, startled by the thought of the two of them marrying each other. “Seriously?” Y/N and Jonathan shared a look and simultaneously nodded at my question grudgingly. Y/N patted my hand consolingly when I still couldn’t wrap my head around this new found information and faced Jonathan once more to ask what he and her grandfather talked about. “What did Papa say?” She glanced at the slim watch on her left wrist and eyed it critically. “The show’s at seven but he did say he’ll swing by earlier because he wanted to eat before going to the theatre. So, he should be here in a couple of minutes, I guess.” Jonathan was about to reply but instead of doing so, he merely smiled and said, “Hi, Miguel.”

 

Used to Jonathan casually flirting at some of the regular customers he finds cute, I didn’t really pay much heed to his greeting until I saw the ashen dumbstruck look on Y/N’s face. I stared at her in concern. However, before I could ask Y/N what’s wrong, a deep voice spoke up from behind me. “Hey, man. What’s up? Hi Y/N.” Heat crept up to Y/N’s cheeks at the other man’s greeting and I watched as she stood up slowly from her seat and bashfully tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Hi, Miguel.” My eyes followed her movement until she stopped in front of a bespectacled guy wearing a dark navy jumper over a crisp white button down shirt and tan trousers. “It’s been awhile.”

 

“It has, hasn’t it? I’m sorry I haven’t visited the shop in ages.” He told her with a lopsided smile, an arm reaching out to wrap around her waist to give her a brief peck on the cheek. “Don’t be.” She mildly scolded with a wave of her hand. “I’m sure you’re busy. What with you working as an associate at a swanky law firm at the Upper East Side and all. Um, so – what brings you here? Coffee?” Y/N smiled sheepishly at Miguel and crossed her arms in front of her to keep from waving it about too much as she talked. “I did miss your coffee,” Miguel started, making me narrow my eyes at him trying to gauge what he’s playing at. Who the fuck is this guy and why have I never heard of him before? “- but I thought your grandfather would have called you. He actually sent me here.” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows slightly at his words and it dawned on her (at the same time as I did) what Jonathan neglected to inform her about his conversation with her grandfather. “No, I was in a meeting when he called. **Someone,** ” She gritted her teeth and shot daggers at Jonathan who looked far from being repentant. “- neglected to tell me what he and Papa talked about. So, I have no idea why he sent you here.”

 

“Oh, well... he asked me to give you these.” Miguel awkwardly drew out from his pocket two tickets for Hamilton to hand over to Y/N. “He and granddad kind of overdid it with the scotch and whiskey last night while they played poker at our place. I think they finished the game at around.... 4? Yeah, around 4 in the morning. He slept over for the rest of the morning, and I just came here after I dropped him off at his hotel. He’s really hungover from all the alcohol last night but, he **is** sorry about missing the show tonight. He knows how much you’ve been wanting to see it for so long. He told me to tell you that – he wouldn’t mind if you watched it without him since it’d just be a waste of perfectly good tickets.” He smiled sympathetically at Y/N who stared at the tickets she was holding while she silently mulled over his words. My eyes took in the rest of Y/N and the slight slump of her shoulders revealed to me the disappointment she was feeling over not seeing Hamilton with her grandfather. “Thank you, for – driving my grandfather back to his hotel, and... for this.” She waved the two tickets up and gamely smiled at Miguel who looked at her in concern. “You didn’t have to. But, thank you.” It was obvious to the three of us surrounding Y/N that she was sad at the prospect of missing the show. I caught the eye of Jonathan, who for once, didn’t have any quips to add to the conversation. “It’s not a problem.” Miguel stated after a beat, obviously unsure of how best to handle this situation.

 

“Here’s an idea,” Jonathan suddenly piped up with an encouraging smile at Y/N and Miguel, with the former glaring up at him and the latter looking on curiously. The mischevious glint at Jonathan’s eyes gave me pause, and I was 100% sure that I was not going to like whatever he was about to say next. “- since it’s been awhile since you guys hung out, why not go see it together? Like Miguel said, it’s just going to be a waste of perfectly good seats if you don’t go and see it. You have an extra ticket on hand, and since Miguel is here already, why not right?” If looks could kill, Jonathan would have already been buried six feet underground with the look that Y/N and I both directed at him. My attention though was dragged from glaring at Jonathan when I heard Miguel started musing out loud, “Well...” which made me abruptly stand up from my seat and stand next to Y/N, placing my hand at her lower back. “Why don’t I go with you instead? I’m sure he’s really busy and uh...” My voice died down awkwardly when I glanced down and saw Y/N looking up at me, her head tilted to the side in perplexion at what I was doing. I chewed my lip and grimaced a bit to her in remorse at my sudden intrusion, feeling every bit as much as the dork that I profess to be under her scrutiny. Her gaze wavered from mine though when Miguel asked me out of nowhere, “Don’t I know you from somewhere? You look really familiar.” I felt Y/N stiffen at my side as she hurriedly tried to distract Miguel from figuring out who I was. In spite of the hole that I have dug myself into, I couldn’t help but smile fondly at her attempts to protect my privacy. Since the beginning of our unlikely friendship, I have learned that Y/N has gone through the most ridiculous lengths for me, Chris, and Anthony to ensure our privacy especially when we’re in her shop. I can distinctly recall an odd conversation we had when she literally hid my profile from a lurking paparazzi outside her shop with her body and tray. “I know it’s stupid, but humor me. I just really want to give you three a space where you could just be.” She told me frankly as she eyed the man with a slight wrinkle of her nose. My smile widened at this memory and most especially, when it registered in my head what exactly she was saying to Miguel. “Oh, him? Pffft, I doubt it. He’s just a friend of mine. He just has the typical white hipster fuckboy look about him that’s why he must’ve looked familiar to you. Um, thank you **so much** for everything. Uh...” She clapped her hands randomly and clasped it tightly in front of her as she ran out of things to say. “- totally forgot that we were in the middle of discussing something about the shop. It was **great** seeing you again Miguel but – we... gotta go. Yep. We’re going.” She grabbed my hand in a vice like grip as she anxiously bailed on whatever shit that was, but stopped mid-stride as she called over her shoulder to the confused man she left on her wake, “Order anything you want on the menu, it’s on the house! Thank you so much Miguel! You’re the best.” Y/N then immediately turned around, her hand still clasping mine, and proceeded to haul Jonathan by the collar up to her office on the second floor.

 

As soon as we were inside her office, she pulled out her phone and speed dialled someone. “Ian? Call me once Miguel is out of the shop. Thanks.” She instructed Ian in a clipped manner, ending the call after he replied, “Will do, boss.” Jonathan and I stared at each other, arguing silently over what just transpired downstairs while Y/N started inhaling and exhaling deeply with her eyes closed to control her irritation. We immediately stopped our argument once we saw her flash her eyes open, exhaling raggedly through her nose. “You.” She pointed at Jonathan with a flash of her eyes. “I’ll deal with you after I make this call.” Without so much as waiting for a reply, Y/N marched out of her office to make the said phone call, leaving me with a startled Jonathan. I heaved out a sigh, resigned to the fact that any chances of me finishing my research today has just flown out of the proverbial window after this incident. I pulled out the chair across from Jonathan and plumped myself on it heavily. “Is that the reason why you were being so fucking cryptic with Mr. Y/M/N’s phone call awhile ago? To surprise Y/N with some dude who was asked by her grandfather to deliver some tickets. Who the hell is that guy anyway?” I asked Jonathan frankly with a frown on my face. He quirked an eyebrow at me, obviously picking up at the slight irritation on my voice. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He teased me with an impish grin. In turn, I directed to Jonathan an unimpressed look bordering on my resting bitch face. “Fine."

 

"Miguel is the grandson of Mr. Y/M/N’s best friend, Quentin.” The other man eventually explained with a dramatic sigh. “He and Y/N didn’t grow up together but they did meet when Y/N got into NYU. He was a year ahead of her, styudying political science, and Mr. Y/M/N wanted them to meet each other so that Miguel could help Y/N adjust with no problems during her first year living by herself in New York especially when he couldn’t do it for her due to his work.” Jonathan paused, eyeing me critically as he weighed the words that he was about to say next. “Y/N used to sort of harbor a crush on him ever since they met and it’s kind of an open secret with everyone who’s acquainted with the two of them. They’re not really close – friends, at best – but he did at some point frequent the shop a lot while he was studying for the bar.” At his explanation, the reaction from Y/N at the sight of Miguel and his easy familiarity with her began to make more sense. I unknowingly clenched my jaw at the memory of how bashful she was around him and the way Miguel looked at her. Jonathan raised a well groomed brow at my reaction and I darted my eyes from his shrewd gaze. Luckily, it was at that time that Y/N decided to make her return, preventing Jonathan from commenting at my transparent behaviour. “Well, I just called Papa. He said that he’s fine. He’s just sporting a massive migraine from his hangover, that’s why he can’t come with me later.” She explained as she sat on her office chair with a weary sigh. “I swear he behaves more like an errant teenager than I do sometimes. Don’t – you fucking dare.” She shot a warning glare at Jonathan who was predictably about to make a wisecrack. “Not in the mood. I got you. My bad.”

 

“Really? Couldn’t you just have told me plainly that my grandfather is too hungover to watch a musical with me? And that he had Miguel drive all the way to Brooklyn just to deliver to me those tickets? Instead, I looked like a fucking moron not knowing what the fuck’s happening.” Y/N told Jonathan in reproach, her frustration evident at the tone of her voice. “I don’t give a shit if you get a kick out of me looking like some moron over **some** guy,” My heart constricted slightly at her words but what she said right after made me feel more at ease. “- who, might I add, I have been over for ages now. I get it. I’m shit at interacting with men. I don’t care. Tease me all you want, the fuck do I care. My problem is, you didn’t tell me that my grandfather – my 89 year old grandfather – was so hungover that he couldn’t even drive himself back to his hotel. He was so hungover that he now has a massive migraine to go along with it. I should have been the one to pick him up from Quentin’s and made sure he got back to his hotel safely, instead of Miguel. What if something happened to him? Dude, seriously.” Y/N buried her face in her palms as she tried to control her breathing, visibly shaken at her outburst. I glanced at Jonathan who looked abashed upon seeing Y/N’s reaction. He then hastily stood up from his seat, and I watched silently as he reached Y/N’s side in just a few steps with his long stride. He knelt by her side and murmured an apology, smoothing down a hand across Y/N’s back. She eventually calmed down, and gave Jonathan and I an apologetic smile. “Sorry,” She began but Jonathan cut her off. “Why are you apologizing when I was the ass this afternoon? Honey, you stay on that high horse as long as you could. The view is fucking fantastic there.” Y/N smiled at him gratefully and leaned her head against Jonathan’s affectionately. “It just sunk in my head after I called him the insanity of what Papa did and my mind just went haywire with worst case scenarios. As it is wont to do. I’m just glad he’s okay and he’s back at the hotel, taking advantage of room service and reruns of old Hollywood films. Sorry for blowing up on you like that.” Y/N glanced up at me and gave me a rueful grin. “Sorry for dragging you into this mess.”

 

“I wouldn’t say you dragged him.” Jonathan commented sardonically from her side as he stood up to his full height. “If I recall correctly, he DID volunteer himself to take you to Hamilton.” Y/N looked at me curiously for a brief moment before shaking her head to tell me resolutely, “Thank you for the save awhile ago. I don’t really want to watch Hamilton with Miguel. You don’t have to, by the way. I can see it by myself.” She half jokingly glared at Jonathan when he commented under his breath, “That’s not sad at all.” in reply to her statement.

 

“What? And miss a chance to see Hamilton for free? Not a chance. I’m coming with you.” I told her with a smirk, making Y/N look at me in amusement. “Aren’t you busy doing research for your new role? What happened with, ‘ _Y/N, I’m not going to skive off work tomorrow. I’ll finish all my research and nail this role, if it’s the last thing I do._ ’” She grinned at me after she lowered her voice considerably to match the pitch of my own. “Not only that, but I’m pretty sure I haven’t agreed to you seeing it with me.” I levelled a look at her and intoned, “Is that the best you can do?” making my voice as deep as it possibly could. Try as I might, I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face at her answering giggle. “Are you sure? I don’t want to keep you from your work.” She asked again, once her laughter died down. I gave her a shrug and smiled at her reassuringly. “It’s fine. I’m just about done anyway. I’m just being neurotic about it. Besides, I really want to see why you love this musical so much.”

 

“Lin-Manuel Miranda is a fucking genius, that’s why.” She professed emphatically in retaliation. “Right. I’ll just finish up with what’s left of what I need to do here in the shop, then we can go. Oh, wait-” Y/N gave me the wide smile that she reserves when she’s about to ask for a major favor. “Is it okay if we drop by Papa’s hotel before we go to the theatre? I want to personally check up on him before anything else. I don’t think I can enjoy watching Hamilton without confirming with my own eyes that he’s alright.”

 

“Sure.” I replied with a nod, the word already at the tip of my tongue before she’s even asked for a favor. She threw me a grateful smile and I followed suit as she stood up to make her way back downstairs. When she was a good few steps ahead of me, I felt Jonathan sidle up next to me and ask me quietly, “Is that really what you’re going to wear to see Hamilton with Y/N?” He made a show of looking at me from top to bottom critically with a slight shake of his head. I glanced down at the hoodie, loose shirt, and sweatpants I was wearing with a frown. “If I were you, I’d wear an all black [ensemble](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/7e/dc/69/7edc6915019435eb1b947490c09abb24.png) with your camo print bomber jacket. She’s very partial to that look on you.” Jonathan gave a wink at the bemused expression I was sporting, startled at his word of advice. “I’d also take her out to dinner afterwards, and then – ask her to go walking around Central Park after dinner because... she loves how it looks at night. Bitch, you owe me.” At this, Jonathan flashed me a knowing smile and resumed his trek downstairs, leaving me at the stairwell wondering what on earth just happened.

 

Did Y/N and I just gotten roped into going on a date, just now?


	10. A Boy and the Birthday Special

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> I know it's been ages since my last post (I'm sorry!). It's just been really hectic lately but I tried my best to write whenever I could. This is still in Seb's point of view. I hope you like it. Thank you so much for being patient with me. 
> 
> I can't wait to hear what you think of the new chapter!

             

Just as her grandfather told her, the tickets he got for the both of them were really good because; it was near enough to the stage that we didn’t have to squint our eyes to gauge the emotions playing out on the actors’ faces, but it was also far enough that we’re able to appreciate the intricacies of the set’s design. We were already halfway through the second part of the musical, and I’m beginning to feel as if the ticket Y/N gave is wasted on me. I’m pretty sure that if Y/N knew that my attention isn’t entirely focused on Hamilton, she’d glare at me before kicking my ass. I’m not entirely sure though how she’d react if she knew that it was because of her that I can’t concentrate on the show.

 

When the show began, I was doing fine. I was just as invested as she was, riveted to the tumultuous life of one of America’s founding fathers from his move from the Carribean to New York. However, when I turned to face her way to make a hush comment on King George’s oddly dictatorial yet romantic song, I was entranced by the expression on Y/N’s features. My breath caught at how ethereal she looked with her face aglow from the stage’s lights, eyes sparkling in humor as King George implored his subjects to go back to his reign. Whatever I was about to say to her got caught in my throat and from then on, despite my efforts to concentrate on the show, I would find myself glancing at the woman on my right to see for myself her unguarded, and expressive reactions to the show. Like... what I’m doing right now as Angelica Schuyler sang in the background that she’s not here for Hamilton. Luckily, Y/N is so consumed by what she was watching that she hasn’t noticed me glancing her way –

 

Or... not.

 

Fuck!

 

I hastily directed my gaze back to the front when Y/N tilted her face in my direction just as Eliza began singing her feelings of betrayal to the audience. I could see from my periphery that she was still looking at me and only when she faced the stage, did I relax in my seat.

 

I don’t think she noticed that I’ve been observing her all this time instead of watching Hamilton. She would have called me out on it if she did. But since she didn’t say anything, I’m pretty sure I’m in the clear.

 

... right?

 

With a slight wince, I shrugged off what just passed and strengthened my resolve to avoid glancing at her direction for the remainder of the show, not wanting to alert her further more to what I’ve been doing throughout the entire night. All that resolve, however, flew out the window as soon as I heard Y/N inhale sharply at my side, followed by slight sniffling. Our eyes met when I glanced at my right to check up on her and Y/N gave me a tiny watery sheepish smile. “Sorry.” She whispered at my side softly while Alexander croons to Eliza of her being the best of wives, and best of women. “This part always gets to me.” At her admission, the music changed dramatically to something more sinister and I noticed her stiffen at Burr’s first line. Without giving it much thought, I reached out for her hand and intertwined our hands together as a sign of comfort. Her eyes darted quickly to our joined hands lying on top of the armrest between the two of us before she squeezed my hand with a small smile of thanks. We stayed like that, holding hands, throughout the show until the entire cast gathered onstage for the final song, “ _Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story_.” By the time it was Eliza’s turn to sing her part on the song, Y/N was softly sniffling to herself with tears streaming down her face. She noticed me watching her emotional reaction to the song, giving out a quiet huff of self – deprecating laughter as she wiped her tears away while saying to me, “Sorry, I’m being ridiculous.”

 

“Don’t be.” I told her in a lightly scolding tone as I tugged her closer to me, my left hand reaching for her hand that I was previously holding so I could wrap an arm around her shoulders to hug her in comfort. Y/N leant her head against my shoulder and stayed there until Eliza drew her last breath onstage and the lights completely went out along with the music. At this, I followed Y/N’s lead as she shot up from her seat to join in with the rest of the audience as they gave the bowing cast a standing ovation. Thunderous applause met each actor as they took turns in bowing at the middle of the stage. I grinned at Y/N as she hollered her praises to them above all the racket the audience was making. When the cast finally departed from the stage and the crowd started slowly dispersing from the packed theatre, I turned towards Y/N expectantly. “Good?” A wide smile spread across her face and she nodded emphatically as she replied, “Yep. Totally fucking worth the wait.”

 

“You didn’t wait. You watched the bootleg like a thousand times.” I pointed out to her with a scoff, stepping back to let her pass in front of me as we made our move to go outside. Y/N whipped her head back to glare at me over her shoulder, exaggeratedly making shushing sounds. “Seriously, dude?” She told me with a grit of her teeth. “Are you trying to get me locked up overnight in jail?”

 

“I’m just saying, you didn’t exactly wait for it.” I teased her, maneuvering my lips out of her reach as she made a move to cover them with her hand. “Besides, I’ll always bail you out of jail.” With a roll of her eyes, Y/N resumed our trek back out of the theatre. “That’s not exactly as comforting a thought as you think it is. Getting locked up overnight is the least of my problems. My Dad would **kill** me for getting detained even before they can actually detain me. Let’s see you try getting me out of **that**. And for the record, it wasn’t a thousand times.” She made a show of glancing around the place to check if the coast is clear before stage whispering to me, “More like 999 times.” I pulled a face in considering thought at her words. “Smart. So that your thousandth view would be the legal one. Good call.” Y/N snorted a laugh under her breath at the ridiculous turn of our conversation and I grinned at the slight shake of her head. A comfortable silence followed this as we both became distracted of trying to navigate our way out of the theatre while other people continued on milling around, waiting for the crowd to thin out. I placed a hand on her lower back to guide her up the flight of stairs leading to the exit as well as to make sure I wouldn’t lose her among the throng of people. Once we reached the lobby, the din from the inside of the theatre became faint and I was able to properly ask her, “Where do you want to eat?” She wrinkled her nose and wryly observed to me, “Why is it that when we’re together, all we do is eat? I think I actually gained so much weight since we started hanging out.”

 

“We don’t eat ALL the time.” I replied with a slight furrow of my brow to which she cocked a challenging brow at. “Sure. More like 97% of the time we’re together then. The 3% left would comprise the rest of the shit we do when we hang out.” I shook my head at her statement in fond exasperation. “If you’re so bothered about it, why don’t you join me when I jog? Or at least get a membership at the Drive like mine so Don can train you.”

 

“Uhhh, I’ll take a hard pass on the jogging. Thanks. That time when you tricked me into jogging with you is the first and the last time, Seb.” I shot her a look as we exited the Richard Rodgers Theatre. “I did NOT trick you into jogging. I just asked if you wanted to push yourself even more, and YOU said you were up for it.” I pulled out my phone from my bomber jacket and opened the Uber app while Y/N stood at my side, grimacing slightly at my words. “Okay, so maybe tricked is too harsh a word. But how was I supposed to say no? We barely knew each other then and saying, ‘ _No thanks, I’m good with walking._ ’ seemed to be a totally rude thing to say especially when you looked as if you’re about to run the New York City marathon with your get up that day.” I scoffed at her ridiculous logic regarding the jogging incident and turned my face away from my phone to tease her about her misplaced courteousness when I noticed how tightly she was crossing her arms in front of her. “Cold?” I asked instead with a concerned frown while I made a move to shrug off the bomber jacket I was wearing to offer to her, the teasing remark I was about to retort to her dying at my lips. “Dude, no-” Y/N cried in a flustered manner. “- it’s fine.” She ended lamely when I merely draped the jacket across her shoulders, ignoring her attempts at waving off my silent offer. “So, where to? You still haven’t told me where you want to eat.” I asked her as I typed our pickup location on Uber while Y/N put her arms through my jacket. Y/N looked at me in contemplative thought before muttering, “Fuck it.” under her breath as she snatched my phone from my grasp to type something on the _Where to?_ search bar of the app.

 

_Lorenzo’s_?

 

I quirked an eyebrow at the one word destination and gave her a questioning look after she handed my phone back to me as it processed our request. “I’m making an exception for you cause you came with me to watch Hamilton and I’m in a celebratory mood.” She began, her eyes directed at the road in front of us, cars flitting through in bright lights. “Save for meetings and company dinners, I only go to Lorenzo’s for my birthday. It’s this tiny family owned Italian restaurant my mom discovered that makes everything from scratch. I love it and it’s my favorite restaurant in the world. So prepare yourself for the best culinary experience of your life. You will never be the same after you step foot inside Lorenzo’s. You shall become a changed man after just one visit to the place.” I snorted at the teasing grin she shot my way and said in response, “I’ll be the judge of that. The car’s arriving by the way.” She glanced towards the direction where the car would be coming from and squinted her eyes to scour through the dozens of cars littered across the street to spot our ride. “He’s here.” She informed me just as my phone alerted me to our ride’s arrival. The sleek black car pulled up in front of us and I placed my hand once more at her lower back to lead her to the car. I slid in after her and closed the door firmly behind me while Y/N exchanged pleasantries with our Uber driver. “Hey man,” I began, ready to ask the driver if I could connect my phone to his car’s sound system but stopped midway as I felt Y/N poke my side with a pointed look. “Yeah? Anything I could do for you?” The Uber driver, Carl, asked with a congenial smile as he wove through the New York traffic. “It’s nothing. We’re good Carl, thanks!” Y/N answered for me. “It’s just a few minutes away. It’ll just be a hassle for him to connect you. Here, use my earphones.” She added before I can complain about not getting to play my Spotify playlist on the drive like I’d normally do. “I swear, I have no idea how you get such high ratings from Uber drivers with how particular you are about the music you listen to while on the drive.”

 

“That’s because I have fantastic taste in music.” I replied to her tartly as I plugged in her earphones to my phone and offered her the right earpiece to use. I switched applications and landed on Spotify, browsing quickly through my dozens of curated playlists. My thumb halted at a particular playlist that I created a few days agao with Y/N in mind, and debated internally whether I should play it or not. I glanced to my left and noticed that she wasn’t paying much heed to what I was doing, merely staring blankly at the passing scenery as she often does when riding a car. Without giving it another thought, I opened the playlist and pressed shuffle.

 

The playlist I made was a compilation of songs that I noticed she often listens to at the shop, or whenever she hitches a ride with me at my car. And just as I hoped, a smile tugged at the corner of her lip as _Moving to New York_ started playing and she dragged her eyes away from the window to glance at me with an approving smile. She fully settled in her seat, humming quietly along to _The Wombats_ with her head slightly bobbing to the beat. We were in our own little bubble for the rest of the trip to Lorenzo’s, song after song of Y/N’s favorite artists playing through the earphones we were sharing with the New York City streets serving as our backdrop. _The Kook’s Shine On_ played next on my playlist when the car pulled up to our destination and once Y/N saw the simple sign hanging above the restaurant, she turned to me, a full blown giddy smile lighting up her features. “Oh my god. We’re here. Come on, I can already taste perfection in the air.” She plucked out her side of the earphones and alighted the car without so much as waiting for me. I rolled my eyes at her disappearing back as she went inside the restaurant, and turned to Carl to thank him for the ride. The driver nodded to me in acknowledgment, looking amused as I wearily followed Y/N out of the car and into the small restaurant she disappeared into.

 

As soon as I stepped inside, the first thing I noticed was how cosy and warm the place’s ambiance was. The diners were either couples on a date, or families having a quiet meal together for the night, while servers were milling about the place to accommodate their customers’ requests. And right in the middle of all that is Y/N, being engulfed in a bear hug by a large, older man. She smiled to me over his shoulder as she gave the other man’s back an affectionate pat . “Enzo, how have you been?” She inquired after him as they pulled away from their hug. “I haven’t seen you in ages.”

 

“Eh.” Enzo shrugged carelessly. “Comme ci, comme ca, little lady. What about you? I see you finally got yourself a hot date.” Color flooded Y/N’s cheeks while I bit my lower lip to keep myself from showing how pleased I am at the thought of being mistaken as her hot date. “What? Nooooooo, it’s nothing like that.”

 

“Sebastian Stan.” I said in turn as a way of introduction to Enzo over Y/N’s cries of denial. “I’m a friend of Y/N’s.”

 

“Stan?” Enzo repeated curiously, his eyes suddely sparking up in interest. He eyed me up and down in dawning realization which ran in contrast to the look of horror slowly creeping up on Y/N’s face. A teasing glint appeared in the older man’s eyes as he followed this by stating slowly, “You don’t happen to be the guy who –”

 

“Enzo!” Y/N cut him off with a pointed look which made me give her a considering one. She smiled at me sheepishly before throwing a dirty look at Enzo who completely ignored her as he continued. “- dropped her at some convention?” Which turned out to be words that Y/N did not expect to hear from him, judging by how her eyebrows shot up to her hairline in surprise.

 

Huh, I wonder what she was expecting him to say with how fraught she was in suspense.

 

“Wait. I never told you about... mother.” She growled under her breath in suppressed frustration. Apparently just the thought of her mother was enough to set Y/N ranting to herself, spinning on her heels to the vacant table that Enzo helpfully directed her to when she gave him an inquiring look mid-rant. Enzo and I shared an amused look at her wake, the other man leaning close to mock whisper to me, “Her mother called to book her friend a table a few weeks ago and let slip the incident with her left wrist.” as a way of explanation at how he knew about me and her accident. He clapped a large hand on my shoulder and steered me to where Y/N was seated, looking every bit as grumpy as she did awhile ago. “For the record, he didn’t drop me.” She informed Enzo primly as we neared her, eyes taking in the menu propped up in front of her. “The stupidity was all on me.”

 

“Gotcha. Pretty boy ain’t at fault.” Enzo repeated dutifully with a teasing grin which caused me to huff out a laugh as I slid on the seat opposite Y/N. “What?” I asked her when I noticed the withering look she directed at me. In reponse, she merely shook her head in exasperation as she resumed browsing the menu. Enzo looked on at her fondly before he pulled out a small pad of paper and a pen from his back pocket while asking, “So, what are you guys having? Are you planning on getting the Y/L/N Birthday Special?”

 

“Y/L/N Birthday Special?” I looked between Enzo and Y/N curiously upon hearing those three words. “Is that a real thing here?” I glanced at my own copy of the menu to look for the said special but none came up from my cursory glance. “It is. For me, at least.” Y/N replied as she set down her menu to address Enzo. “It’s what I always get for my birthday,”

 

“- which she only eats on the actual day of her birthday. Beyond that, she normally refuses to order any of the food items on that special.” Enzo added, humor lacing through his voice. “Is today the day you finally break that tradition?”

 

“Ha! Nope.” Y/N smugly retorted to the other man, lacing her fingers together to daintily place on top of her crossed legs. “I’ll be having the squash soup and a slice of your margherita pizza.” After this, Y/N turned to me inquiringly for my own selections with a slight tilt of her head. Instead of taking my pick from the menu in front of me though, I glanced up at Enzo to ask about Y/N’s birthday special. “Just let me get this straight. That birthday special is only her thing, and I can order it any time, right?”

 

“Yep.” I clapped my hands, mind finally made up at Enzo’s confirmation. “I’ll be having her birthday special. I’m curious to see what this tradition of hers actually entails.”   


“Just like that?” Y/N pointed out to me dubiously. “You’re not even going to ask what’s in the bloody special?”  


“Since it’s you we’re talking about, I’m already confident that you didn’t pick anything shitty.” I replied with a shrug of my shoulders. “Do you want to order wine?” She shook her head in the negative and Enzo left our side with a promise of returning with Y/N’s order of squash soup and the restaurant’s complimentary bread basket. “So what’s the deal with the birthday special?” I leaned back against my seat as I waited for her reply in genuine curiousity. She shrugged her shoulders and picked up a piece of napkin to tear into shreds. “They only started calling that recently when they figured out what I was doing on my birthday, but I’ve been doing it ever since my mom took us here. I don’t know.” She lined up the strips of tissue paper in front of her until they’re lined up evenly so that she could tear it in half cleanly. “I guess I just wanted to have a tradition for myself on my birthday. Something that’s just mine. So now it’s become this thing at Lorenzo’s cause they noticed that I never missed having that special whenever my birthday comes around. It’s nothing, just another stupid habit I have.”

 

“I think it’s cute.” I told her casually, looking at her through my lashes and feeling unnecessarily pleased at the slight flush on her cheeks that my comment caused. “Anyway...” She started as an obvious attempt at changing the topic before I can say anything else. “- how did you like Hamilton?” A flash of guilt swept through me at her new found topic especially since I could barely remember what happened at the show due to my attention being constantly dragged back to her unguarded features. “Uh, it was really good.” I finally supplied, trying to mask the fact that I’m floundering to add more aside from saying something as banal as, ‘ _it was really good’_. Thankfully, a woman with riotous curls interrupted our conversation to set down the steaming bowl of squash soup and basket of freshly baked dinner rolls in front of us just as Enzo promised. The momentary distraction gave me enough time to wrack my brain for something to tide me over this conversation while Y/N was busy making small talk with the server. Once her attention was back to me, I nonchalantly picked up a rye roll and continued where I left off as if I wasn’t panicking inside to say something of substance. “I was really impressed with what they did by having the same actors portray two different characters for the first and second act. By the second act you kind of realize that their lines from the first song has taken on a new meaning from the first act.” Apparently, that was just the right thing to say because Y/N instantly lit up and began enthusiastically fangirling about the show as she poured olive oil and balsamic vinegar to a small saucer to offer to me. Our conversation went on in this manner as we ate our starters, with Y/N fangirling about Hamilton while I listened on in rapt attention, merely contributing every now and then to something she noticed from watching the show live. She was only distracted from our present conversation when Enzo appeared at her side to set down our order in between Y/N and I. “One order of margherita pizza and one order of our famous truffle cream pasta.” He announced with a flourish. My eyes landed to the plate in front of me and I looked up to see Y/N give my food a longing look. So THIS is her favorite dish of all time, Lorenzo’s truffle cream pasta. I cocked an eyebrow and lifted the plate, saying, “Is this it?” to Y/N questioningly. She nodded, eyes still trained at the plate full of truffle cream pasta like a man parched of water. “Do you want some?”

 

“No, thank you.” Y/N said faintly as she forced her eyes away from my food to direct it at her momentarily forgotten slice of margherita pizza. “I’m good.”

 

“Uhuh, sure.” I retorted, dubiously. “If you want to steal a bite, I don’t mind.” I flashed a grin at the scowl she directed at my blatant attempt to coax her into breaking her tradition. She gave me a pointed look as she took a large bite from her pizza, making a show of ignoring how I slowly twirled a forkful of truffle cream pasta. Her irritation turned into a smug grin though when I let out a surprised groan after shoving the forkful of pasta into my mouth to taste for the first time. “Oh god.”

 

“Good, right?” Y/N commented knowingly at my bug-eyed wonder. “And that’s just the first part of my birthday special. Wait till you get to the dessert.”

 

“What’s dessert?” I questioned her over a mouthful of pasta, more keen than I was before at Y/N’s birthday special. A secretive smile passed across her lips and Y/N merely shook her head and said, “That would just ruin the surprise. Less talking and more savoring, Seb.” And with that, I tucked into my meal, a feat that I’m more than happy to do so, considering how insanely good this plate of pasta is. No wonder it’s her favorite. Enzo and his family have done an impressive feat with cooking something so simple at face value but is in reality, a complex blend of flavors upon my first bite. The pasta itself is cooked al dente, covered with a light but well seasoned truffle flavored cream, and garnished by a shredded Grana Padano cheese.

 

That’s it.

 

There’s nothing else.

 

No portabello mushrooms. No strips of prosciutto. Just a fantastic combination of pasta, sauce, and cheese. Holy fuck. Now I get why she’s adamant on just having this for her birthday only. It’s a decadence in itself. Something you’d only want to have on rare occassions to keep it special. As much as I tried to savor each bite, I managed to polish off my plate in record time with Y/N watching over my progress in amusement. With a final swipe of my bread against what’s left of the truffle flavored cream on my plate, I let out a contented sigh and pushed back a stray lock of my hair. “Oh god.” I repeated for what must be the umpteenth time since we started our meal. “How can you turn this down so easily? I’m ready for second round already even if my body’s still digesting my first helping.”

 

“Years of practice.” Y/N told me sagely as she popped a torn off rye roll dipped in balsamic vinegar to her waiting mouth. “I’m going to be honest with you. There may have been an incident where I ate three servings of this pasta – yep, still during my birthday.” She added at my inquiring look. “I simultaneously felt a sense of accomplishment after polishing everything off as well as a feeling of slight abject horror at the fact that I just did something like that. It was a pretty low moment for me.”

 

“Should I even ask?” I cocked an eyebrow, humor and a tinge of curiosity lacing through my voice. “It’s probably for the best that you don’t. I’d like to still have some dignity left to face you with, thank you very much. It’s bad enough that you’ve seen me ugly cry and sweat like a pig. You don’t need the mental image of me binge eating as well.” I rolled my eyes at her self-deprecating comment but was stopped from saying another word (again) by Enzo’s reappearance at our table.

 

“So how’s the food little lady? Did she cave in and steal a bite from your food?” I smiled apologetically at Enzo’s question while Y/N snorted a laugh under her breath. “I would but I was afraid that if I so much as reached a fork in his direction, Seb would have stabbed me with his fork with how fast he ate his meal. He more or less inhaled the bloody thing as soon as he took his first bite.” She commented wryly to the older man who in turn, laughed out loud and clapped a hand on my shoulder good–naturedly. “I’m glad you liked your meal. I hope you guys have some room for dessert?”

 

“As if you had to ask.” I replied with a light pat on my full stomach. “What Don doesn’t know, wouldn’t hurt him. So what’s the dessert for her birthday special?”

 

“It’s called Limone Santi. Frozen lemon curd with a cream topping over a graham cracker crust.” The woman who served our appetizers came up to her boss with a tray laden of two saucers with a slice of the said cake and a slice of pecan pie, as well as two small cups of what looks to be hot chocolate from my seat. Y/N smiled widely at Enzo upon seeing the slice of pecan pie. “You know me so well.” She told him, flashing a smile up at him in thanks before dragging the saucer close to her. “You’re lucky that I had a slice left of that pie today.” Enzo teased her in parting as another patron called his attention. “We nearly ran out before you came in. Hang on, duty calls.”

 

“If I weren’t so loyal to Ari’s baking, I would have struck a deal with Enzo already to supply the shop with his pies.” Y/N admitted with a lick of her dessert spoon. “Ugh, I can eat this all day.” I pointed my fork at her in agreement, too busy licking a cream that got stuck at the corner of my lip to properly respond. “I have to hand it to you though,” I began as I dug the dessert spoon for another bite of the cake. “- this birthday special of yours is a fantastic combination. The Limone Santi counterbalances the heaviness of the cream sauce from the pasta and the hot chocolate’s just plain damn heavenly.”

 

“Right???” She cried earnestly after a careful sip from her cup of hot chocolate. “This stuff’s what dreams are made of. Willy Wonka has nothing on Enzo’s hot chocolate. It’s so fucking decadent.”

 

“Mmm.” I began, suddenly recalling something I’ve been meaning to ask her since Jonathan mentioned it to me awhile ago before we left for her grandfather’s hotel. “Speaking of the shop... Jonathan told me you guys are having an event?”

 

Just as Jonathan predicted, Y/N automatically tried to wave off the topic by flippantly saying, “It’s nothing big. Just some sort of reading festival we’ve got planned to get the shop more exposure.” I gave her a shrewd look over the rim of my cup, knowing full well that there’s more to this event than she lets on, judging by how she immediately stiffened upon hearing me mention it in the middle of dessert. “It’s for the shop’s fifth year anniversary, right?” I asked her in faux curiousity since I was already privy to her answer after my conversation with Jonathan about what they were planning for the event. “Um, yeah.” She answered slowly, eyeing me warily after she finished off what’s left of her pecan pie. Even before I uttered my next question, I knew by the stubborn set of her brows that she’s already figured out that I know why she’s being so evasive about this entire thing. “Why don’t you want to ask me to be a part of your event?” I asked her bewilderedly, dropping the evasive questions altogether. “You know that I’d say yes.”

 

Y/N let out an exasperated sigh, one hand rubbing across her face. “Jonathan should not have told you about it in the first place.” She gave me a levelled look. “I told him not to – but, since when did he listen to anything I say? I know, I know.” Y/N added with a wave of her hand when I was about to point out the same thing to her. “You are aware of the fact that we can’t afford your fee?” Y/N teased me, laughing out right when I made a show of rolling my eyes expressively at her statement. “You make me sound like a stripper.” She grinned unapologetically at my sarcastic comment before helpfully (not) correcting me with, “A high-end stripper you mean, for governors or athletes.”

 

“Ha, I know that line. I’m sure I’ve heard it somewhere before. (“It’s a quote from Easy A.” she supplied happily.) Anyway... do you really think I’d charge you for making an appearance at your event? Because you’re right. I would.” I grinned at the sight of Y/N unable to keep herself from laughing after being caught off guard by my deadpan comment, expecting the opposite of what I just said more likely. “But! I’m positive that all the free books, drinks, and extra servings of pastries you’ve given me since we met would offset whatever I’d charge you, so we’re quits. Just ask Jonathan. He has a list.”

 

“He has a what, now?!”

 

“A list. He keeps tabs on all the free shit you give out to people. You’d be so proud of him. It’s all encoded and color coordinated in an excel sheet at your laptop. Do you want to get the bill?” Y/N was startled a bit at my question, most likely still hung up over just finding out that her assistant manager keeps track of all the free shit she gives out to people. She distractedly signalled for the bill to a passing waiter before turning back to me in puzzled confusion. “You’re serious? He really has a list and all?”

 

“Yep.” I replied with a press of my lips. “He told me it’s his way of making sure that you guys don’t end up bankcrupt with how much free shit you hand out to people at your shop. That’s why I know for a fact, how much exactly I owe you. Besides, if you just asked, I would have volunteered and done it for free. But since I know you, I’m pretty sure you’d make a fuss about it so, think of it as payment for what I owe the shop.”

 

“You’re not supposed to be owning my shop anything.” She grumbled under her breath with a scowl marring her pretty features. “The idea of giving someone something is that you don’t expect anything in return.”

 

“Then, think of this as my gift to you for reaching this milestone.” I immediately suggested without missing a beat much to her consternation. “So what are your plans for this reading festival? Is it like what Benadryl Cumberbatch does at the clip you showed me online?”

 

Y/N narrowed her eyes at me with a shake of her head. “You’re horrid. Benadryl Cumberbatch.” She repeated in a derisive tone meant to mock me. “Noooo, we’re not going to do what BENEDICT did for Letters Live. We’re just planning on reading to a small audience passages from our favorite books instead of letters. Nothing’s set in stone anyway so we’ll see what happens. It was just an idea that we came up with as we planned on what to do for the fifth year anniversary. It may not even push through.” It was obvious that Y/N was trying to downplay what they have planned for this reading festival so that I wouldn’t have a chance of committing to help them out, the forced nonchalant tone she used in saying this to me was enough proof of that. I’ll just let it slide though since there’s no point in trying to convince her otherwise when she already has her mind set on something. I’ll just find a way to help her out in this cause I know how much the shop means to her and how proud she is at having reached this milestone. I don’t care if that means I have to read passage after passage from her favorite books all day long or I have to help out in cleaning the shop afterwards, I just want to make sure this celebration is a memorable one for her.

 

After all, she’s worth it.


	11. A Girl and a Boy

                               

 

“So, how was your date?”

 

“It wasn’t a date.”

 

“Mhmmm. So – how far did you get with him?”

 

“What? What the hell are you talking about?”

 

“If you’re asking me that, then it’s obvious you both didn’t go far. And here I thought Stan had some game.”

  
“What???”

 

“Sex, dear. I’m asking you if you and Hobo Ken did the deed.”

 

“DUDE!” I looked up from what I was doing and shot Jonathan a venomous look from where I was sprawled on the floor, black binders and various print outs scattered all around me. “It wasn’t a date.”

 

“Of course it isn’t.” My assistant manager sniffed primly from his seat at my desk. “Not much of a date if you guys didn’t even have sex.” Jonathan easily ducked away from the roll of scotch tape I threw at his head. “Not ALL dates end up in sex.” I retorted to him, decided on turning a deaf ear at whatever my assistant manager’s going to say in response. I should really learn my lesson at getting easily baited into reacting to his comments because I know I’m just egging him on the more I get flustered at them. But as always, it’s easier said than done.

 

“It does for my dates.” A smirk blossomed across his handsome features, going from salacious to smug in a matter of seconds. “So... it WAS a date then?”

 

“Fuck you.” I replied through gritted teeth, my eyes trained at the screen of my laptop instead of the self-satisfied expression on Jonathan’s face. “I’d rather not. Virgins aren’t my thing. I’m sure Sebastian would be more than happy to help you though.” Heat creeped up my cheeks as Jonathan cackled at his own remark. “Out.” I bit out to him impatiently, groaning internally at how the day is unfolding.

 

I seriously thought that I was going to have a great day with how productive I was being since we opened the store this morning. Everything went smoothly from the rush hour till now. I felt as if I got my shit together especially after I got to tick off several items from my to-do list. I really should have seen this coming. OF COURSE everything is going to go tits up once Jonathan managed to corner me in my own office. Ever since that night when Seb accompanied me to watch Hamilton, Jonathan’s been on my case about our, “date.”

 

Which it wasn’t.

 

A date, I mean.

 

It was not a date.

 

At all.

 

Although...

 

There WERE moments during that night when a traitorous thought would pop up, wondering if what we were doing made it count as one. Like when he draped his jacket over me to keep me warm until we went our separate ways. Or, when we shared my earphones to listen to his playlist on Spotify while the streets of New York flitted past the windows of our Uber car. Or, when he asked if we could walk around Central Park after our dinner at Lorenzo’s, pointing out that it’s still fairly early to call it a night. Or, when he made me feel as if I was Keira Knightley in _Begin Again_ as we roamed around Central Park, sharing once more my earphones as we listened to his playlist. Smiling at each other when a mutual favorite song would play on. Shoulders bumping against each other as we walked closely together so that my earphones won’t fall off from our ears. Seb singing under his breath when his favorite part of a song comes up. His hand at my lower back every now and then to guide me as we continued on walking.

 

But, **NOPE**.

 

It wasn’t a **date**.

 

We were just hanging out like we normally do. Two friends going to a show, having dinner, and spending time together. Completely platonic stuff. Which is why Jonathan’s constant stream of questions about my so-called, “date,” is driving me up the wall. The fucker won’t take a hint no matter how many times I’d point out to him that nothing happened **because** it wasn’t a date to begin with. No matter what I tried, he’s been relentless about it, with his questions getting more lewd as time passed. Case in point: his question about my (non-existent) sex life just a few minutes ago.

 

Going to my office to settle our accounts and answer my work emails was such a rookie move. I should have seen this coming from a mile away especially when I noticed that Jonathan was being oddly quiet about this topic when just yesterday he wouldn’t let up with his teasing until closing time. To misquote Alastor Moody, I **really** should have practiced constant vigilance.

 

And now here I am, cornered in my own bloody office by my own bloody assistant manager. “Out.” I repeated more firmly when Jonathan still hasn’t made a move from his seat at my desk. “Or I’m calling Papa.” As expected, the mention of my grandfather (and Jonathan’s favorite professor back in college) gave him pause and alerted Jonathan that I meant business. The threat of his favorite professor scolding him always does the trick and Jonathan ( **FINALLY** ) sauntered out of my office with a roll of his eyes. At last, peace and quiet enveloped my office as soon as the door closed behind Jonathan’s retreating indignant form. Once I was sure there would be no more distractions in the form of Jonathan asking me inappropriate and confusing questions, I was able to get more things cleared from my to-do list.

 

By noon, all that was left for me to do was to finalize the menu for Chris’ craft services and the itinerary for the event we’re organizing to celebrate the shop’s fifth anniversary. The only noise that could be heard inside my office for awhile was the soft click-clacking of the keys from my keyboard as I typed – that is, until I heard the tell-tale sign of my office door being opened. Without looking up from the laptop I was balancing on my lap, I called over my shoulder in warning, expecting Jonathan to be back with more wisecracks for me. “Jonathan I swear to fucking god that if you so much as say another word, I will shove your dick up your ass that you can kiss goodbye to having sex any time in the future.”

 

“Good thing I’m not Jonathan then.” Seb’s voice said from behind me in amusement. I whipped my head to face him, wincing in embarassment at what I just said. Seb shut my door behind him and approached me, grinning at the repentant look I was sporting. “Sorry.” I muttered as he leaned down to drop a kiss on top of my head as a way of greeting. “I thought for a second that you were Jonathan.”

 

“I figured.” He waved off my apology and ruffled the top of my hair affectionately before he took off his bag to sit beside me on the floor. He then braced his hands behind himself to lean back, giving me an expectant look in the process.

 

“What?” I questioned him, growing slightly uncomfortable at his gaze when his uncharacteristic silence drew on for more than a couple of minutes. He huffed out a laugh eventually and shook his head, dark tresses becoming more disheveled. “I knew it.”

 

“Knew what?” I repeated, growing more confused by the minute. “Knew that I’m about to go bat shit crazy with Jonathan’s antics?”

 

“No. That’s kind of a given already.” Seb reached out a hand and lightly tugged the stray hair that escaped the bun piled on top of my head. “Monday morning, waffles, pancakes, coffee... ring any bells?” I blinked in confusion, going over and over in my head the list of items that he just told me. Monday morning... waffles... pancakes... coffee...

 

“OH MY GOD!” I gasped out loud in horror once everything clicked into my head. “Was that today???” Seb nodded at my side with a grin. “Do you remember now?” I closed my eyes tightly and still nodded despite his question sounding rhetorical to my ears. “I’m so sorry Seb. It totally slipped my mind that we agreed to meet up for breakfast today. Oh god, I’m really sorry. I really didn’t mean to. I was pre-occupied this morning and Jonathan was also being a complete ass on a whole new level.” I continued on with a bite of my lip. “I’m really, really sorry. Pleaaaassseeeese let me make it up to you.”

 

“It’s fine.” He waved off flippantly before he tugged his bag closer to him so he could draw out his tattered copy of the script for his new movie. “I figured that you skipped brunch with good reason, so I’m letting you off the hook this time. Judging by the look of this place -” He made a point of glancing at the mess surrounding us in curiosity. “- you’re clearly swamped with work. What are you up to anyway? Is it still about the fuck up done by your supplier?”

 

“No. That’s fine already. I had them replace everything since I have evidence that we chose the right proofing for the merchandise.” When Seb looked as if he’s settled down beside me, I returned my attention back to the document I was editing to try and pick up where I left off before I send the document to Chris and George. Seb propped up his elbow on the coffee table in front of us and leaned his head against his raised hand while his other hand reached out for a binder close by. “I’m just replying to some emails.”

 

“Allergies?” He questioned me with a cock of his brow, his eyes taking in the list of food items from my binder that Chris emailed me to avoid using for the menu we’re proposing. “Hmm? Oh, yeah. Chris sent me those so I can finalize the menu for their craft services. I’m just about to email him about it.” I replied distractedly, wondering to myself what else I’d need from Chris’ end. We already covered the area we’ll be setting up and the menu. What else... oh, right! Sockets. I need more electrical sockets for the portable coffee machine. I was consumed once more by what I was doing that it took me awhile to register what Seb was saying. “Sorry? I didn’t catch that.”

 

“I said, if it wasn’t about the suppliers then what was Jonathan bugging you about?” He repeated to me with a nudge to my side in mock reprimand at my absent-minded focus. Without really giving much thought to what I was saying, being so consumed about what I was typing up, I replied, “Us, dating.”

 

As soon as I heard myself utter those two fateful words, I froze on my seat with my hands halting mid-type.

 

Fuck.

 

FUCK.

 

fUckITy FUCK, FuCK!

 

WHAT. THE. ACTUAL. FUCK. Y/L/N.

 

I bit my lip harshly and hunched over my laptop to bury my face in my hands in abject horror. Did I really just say that to Seb of all people?!?

 

Goddamn it, Y/L/N!

 

I slowly dragged my eyes away from my laptop and took a peek at Seb who was looking at me with both brows shooting up to his hairline. “Fuck.” I uttered with a groan, hand scrubbing my face in annoyance. “Um. That’s not – I mean.. argh!”

 

“Is he asking you if we’re seeing each other?” Seb supplied helpfully when it looked as if I was grasping at straws to continue my train of thought. My face flushed a deep crimson and it seems that it doesn’t plan on receding to its normal coloring any time soon. I’m pretty sure that my face can rival a beetroot already with how red it is. “Not really. It’s more like he’s insinuating that we went on a date...” I finally explained with a grimace, adding hastily, “- but I swear, I told him flat out that the night we went to see Hamilton was nothing but just us hanging out like usual. He’s just annoying me because he’s got nothing better to do. I’ll get him to back off. I’m really, really sorry.” Apparently, once I finally managed to string words together into complete sentences, my mouth suddenly doesn’t know how to stop blabbering. “Ha, us? Dating? Insane, right? Ha, ha, ha - I promise I’ll get him to stop before it goes out of hand.” How I’ll manage that is beyond me but Seb doesn’t need to know that as I laughed awkwardly to mask my embarassment. Me and my big fat mouth. Why did I even have to let that information slip? It’s bad enough that Jonathan won’t let up with his teasing, now I’ve got to add Seb knowing about it to the mix as well.

  
Oh god, he must think I’m delusional now – harboring deep seated fantasies of us dating. Which I’m not. Honestly, I’m happy enough as it is that I can call him a friend. I tried to blink back tears as it dawned on me that this knowledge may just ruin an amazing friendship with Seb who has been nothing but nice to me all this time. I might as well kiss goodbye to hanging out with him again in the future. Why would he want to? It’ll just be plain uncomfortable for him to hang out with me, thinking that I’m harboring these fantasies when all he wants is someone to hang out with. It’s not like it’s going to be a big loss for him if we stopping hanging out. I’m just some fan he befriended over time due to an unforeseen incident. I’m sure he’s got better things to do than entertain a fangirl. As much as I want to blame Jonathan, this brand of idiocy is all me.

 

Me and my big fat mouth.

 

The rant filled with vitriol that I was directing to myself was stopped however when Seb sighed wearily. My face flushed even more (if that’s even possible) upon hearing his sigh. Nothing good comes out after a sigh like that. I began to brace myself to hear the words that would forever change our friendship but what he said next was far from what I was expecting. “And here I thought he’d be more discreet about it.” Seb muttered to himself in a self-deprecating manner. “I forgot that this was Jonathan we’re talking about.”

 

“Huh?” Out of all the things that I expected him to say, what he just said wasn’t one of them. To say that I was confused would be the understatement of the century. The sheepish smile he was directing at me just added more to my confusion and I had no choice but to wait for Seb to elaborate more on his statement. “Your friend is far too perceptive for his own good, you know?” Seb pushed back his hair while he straightened up in his sitting position. I noticed him swallow thickly before continuing. “I was kind of hoping that he’d let me ask you first but as usual, he’s too impatient to wait for me to do that.”

 

“Ask me what?” I interrupted him, my mounting confusion mingled with frustration because I was feeling completely wrong-footed by whatever the hell is happening. Seb dropped his script on the table top and turned to face me with a lick of his lips. He then raised cerulean eyes at me and I was thrown by the intensity of his gaze as he scrutinized my reaction to what he was about tell me. “This isn’t exactly how I planned on asking you.” He reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear making me stiffen at his close proximity. “I’ve been meaning to say this for some time now but I can’t seem to muster the courage to do it. Better late than never right?” He cleared his throat and licked his lip once more in apprehension. I watched him warily, unsure and becoming anxious the more Seb dragged on his words, an unusual trait especially for him. What could he possibly want to ask me that’s making him act this way? But for the life of me I can’t come up with anything that he might ask of me that would make him as nervous as he is right now. “Would you like to go out with me? On a date.” He hastily added as he caught sight of the stupefied expression on my face. “Would you like to go out on a date with me?”

 

I blinked furiously as I tried to process what Seb just asked me, unable to comprehend the meaning of his question. “Sorry, I think I misheard you. What was that again?” I asked him since I’m positive that what I heard was DEFINITELY NOT what he just asked me. The corner of Seb’s lip quirked up into a lopsided smile at this and he dutifully repeated his question in verbatim. I cocked my head to the side, still unable to comprehend what he just said, laughed awkwardly, and then made a show of cleaning my ears as I said, “I think I’m hearing things. Could you repeat that again?” Seb raised a brow at me in reply. “What did you think you heard me ask you?”

 

The flush on my cheeks came back with a vengeance as an internal debate ensued in my head on whether I should admit to him what I think I heard him say or not. On one hand, it may clear things up and we can just laugh off my momentary deafness. BUT, on the other more pressing hand, it could just lead to further humiliation on my part because that freudian slip would say a lot about what my subconscious has been telling me ALL this time (i.e. that I am still warm for Seb’s form no matter how much I deny it). However, when I still haven’t given Seb a proper response, he finally took pity on me and said, “Did you by any chance heard me ask you out on a date?”

 

I nodded dumbly at his question, still unable to process if I’m hearing him clearly. “You’re not mishearing things.” He confirmed in fond exasperation before slowly and clearly stating, “I. Did. Ask. You. Out. On. A. Date.”

 

“Yeah, right.” I retorted without thinking making me slap both hands to my lips in belated surprise. This time around, both of his eyebrows shot up and Seb prodded my arm to explain what I just blurted out. Once he gave me an unamused pointed look, I finally relented and said, “As if you’d really ask me out. That’s a good one.” The playful jab I directed at his bicep unfortunately looked just as stilted as my words even though I was aiming to appear nonchalant when deep inside I was feeling an onslaught of emotions at his question. His thick eyebrows furrowed as his lips pulled down into a frown. “I’m not kidding.” My heart stuttered at the slight tone of hurt in his voice. “Jonathan just fucking jumped the gun on me but I really have been planning on asking you out for ages already. I want – I want for us to be more than friends, Y/N.” It took some time but the gravity which he said these words with coupled with his facial expression made me realize that he wasn’t pulling my leg. Once it registered to me that he was being genuine with his question, I couldn’t help but bug my eyes out in shock and question him, “Why?!”

 

Seb’s frown deepened at my question but before he could reply, I started once more as I grew more incredulous at this sudden turn of events. “Why would you want to date **me**???”

 

“Why not?” He asked, puzzled confusion marring his handsome features. “Why wouldn’t I want to date you?”  


“Seriously? I mean – I’d get it if **I** was the one asking you out.” As would other people, I’m sure. “You’re amazing. You’re talented, insanely good looking, smart, and kind and... and you’re like Gina Linetti!”

 

“What?” Seb questioned me, hysterical laughter bubbling up at the surface at my oddly emphatic statement. I shot him an irritated glance. “You’re like Gina - everyone’s at least 30% attracted to you. I’m trying to say you’re magnetic, god damnit! Argh, why have you still not watched Brooklyn Nine – Nine??? How are you supposed to keep up with my nine – nine references if you don’t even know who Gina Linetti is.”

 

“You said we’d watch it together.” He pointed out to me in amusement. “That’s not the point.” I waved my hands in front of me to get my bearings straight once more after being distracted from the present conversation. “All I’m saying is that you’re **YOU,** and I’m.. I’m –” For someone who’s very fond of reading, it’s ironic how I’m always grasping at the right words to say. You’d expect I’d have a huge arsenal of words from my vocabulary to express my thoughts but like always, I’m coming up with a blank on what to say. Seb though surprised me once more by continuing my train of thought for me with an unfamiliar look in his eyes. “- gorgeous? Funny? Sexy as hell? Intelligent? Driven? Compassionate? Generous? Honestly, I could just go on.” He bit his lip as his eyes dropped down to his lap before slowly dragging up to meet mine in a gaze that I BLATANTLY refuse to even put a name to (stupid bedroom eyes). How is anyone supposed to think when shit like that is directed at you? “That’s – really sweet, thank you. But, the fact of the matter is... you’re way, wayyyyy out of my league and I’m just... me. How could – I just... I just can’t comprehend how you’d want to date me.” I crossed my arms in front of me and brought a fist to press against my lips as I contemplated on what to say next, Seb watching me in silence as he waited for me to continue. “I’m not... trying to brush off your feelings. It’s just, insane – hear me out!” I added when I noticed Seb was about to argue back at my comment, his face pinched in frustration. “We both know that at the end of the day, I’m just your fan you met at a convention. It’s not exactly a secret that I find you attractive. I wouldn’t have spent that much money or effort for just anybody. I don’t do that for people that I admire, it’s just you – because I wanted to meet the person I’ve been harboring a crush on for so long.” I glared at Seb when I noticed him slightly preen upon hearing me say out loud that I’ve been harboring a crush on him all these years.

 

Really Seb?

 

Really?

 

Men.

 

With a roll of my eyes at his unapologetic grin, I resumed what I was saying. “A crush that stemmed from films I’ve seen you in; what little I know of your life through interviews you had; snippets of your personality from other people’s anecdotes of meeting you as well as what you’d post online. I wanted to meet you even if it’s just for a few minutes. All I imagined happening that day was me finally seeing you in person, getting that opportunity to briefly converse with you, and have that memory immortalized in a photo that I could brag to my friends afterwards.” Memories of that fateful day came to my mind’s eyes and judging by the small smile on Seb’s lips, he was also recalling it himself. For a brief moment, we shared a smile together as we got lost in our memories until I continued what I was saying. “I had a crush on you but it was for shallow reasons. I didn’t know you then. I didn’t know you enough that I could say I liked you for who you really are and not just what I imagined you to be. Believe me when I say that I didn’t expect that, that day would be a catalyst for this.” I inhaled a shaky breath and licked my dry lips before continuing. “I thought that the last time I’d see you in person was before I got wheeled out to the ambulance. I didn’t expect that you and Anthony would be there for me at the hospital until my family arrived. Nor when you guys turned up at my coffee shop to check up on an idiotic fan under the guise of taking up her drug induced offer of free food and drinks, bringing along Chris for the trip on top of that. I didn’t expect that I would end up becoming friends with you guys or that you three would become regulars at my shop. Honestly – at the beginning, there were times when I’d freak out whenever any of you would appear at the shop. It was only after awhile that I got comfortable in all your presence. I figured that I might as well get used to seeing you often if you three are adamant on becoming part of my list of regulars at the shop. And like I said, I wanted to give you space that you’d feel comfortable in where you can just be. That’s why I tried to downplay the fangirling as much as I can.”

 

“We do feel like that at your shop. I can’t speak for the others but I’m grateful at the lengths you’ve taken to make sure that we have a semblance of privacy at your shop.” He told me with a smile to which I nodded to. “I’m glad to hear that. Even if I looked like a moron doing it, at least it’s not for nothing. Maybe I should get tinted windows?”

 

“Y/N...” Seb said, trying to mask his amusement at my easily distracted state by clearing his throat and crossing his own arms in front of him. I shot him a sheepish grin in return, making Seb shake his head slightly at me. “Anyway,” I began once more, feeling more at ease after that interlude despite the fact that I’m baring everything to Seb, no holds barred. “- eventually I somewhat got over my reflexive fangirling whenever you guys are around. I sort of began to see Anthony and Chris as if they were my own older brothers.”

 

“And me?” Seb inquired curiously as he leaned his head against the hand he propped up at the table, his gaze not wavering from mine. I looked at him sideways from where I’m seated but even that momentary eye contact with him proved to be too much especially at how expectant he looked at my response. “I’m pretty sure that what I’m about to say is counted as blasphemous to Em.” Obviously, my attempt at playing off my embarassment by jokingly mentioning my childhoon best friend was a complete failure. Since he’s yet to meet Emily, Seb only grew more interested at what I was about to say considering he knows how much I value the opinion of my high-strung med student of a best friend. “You don’t – I don’t know how else to describe you okay? You don’t have to feel compelled to start making friendship bracelets with me after this but yeah – I kind of see you as one of my best friends. Given that I harbored a massive crush on you, it would be weird for me to see you as an older brother like I do with Chris and Anthony. It may also have to do something with the fact that I feel so comfortable around you. You – for some unknown fucking reason – actually enjoy spending time with me, quirks and all. I can talk to you for hours on end without running out of topics to discuss. But I can also spend an afternoon with you in complete comfortable silence. You’ve seen me at my shittiest and yet, you’re still here. You’re just there for me and I know that if ever I need you, you would just be a text message away.” I cleared my throat and tucked stray locks of hair from my bun, behind my ear. “You’re my guy best friend and somehow you’ve become part of the small group of people that I deeply care for... When I said that you were way out of my league, I wasn’t saying that just because you’re Sebastian Stan, the hollywood actor with legions of fans willing to throw themselves at your feet. It’s partly that but also because you’re Seb – who’s just an amazing guy altogether. I feel like I’m lucky enough as it is that I get to call you my friend, I’ve never really entertained the idea of being more. I’m genuinely happy with how things are. I don’t want to mess up and lose you as a friend. Just moments ago I was freaking out that you might’ve been bothered with my slip up about Jonathan’s teasing on our so called, “date.” Who knew you’d actually ask me out?” I couldn’t help but release a short sardonic laugh at this thought while Seb watched on in silence until I’ve finished with what I had to say. “I’d be lying if I said that the thought of us dating hasn’t crossed my mind at least once since we became close but I never really took it seriously. I just passed it off as momentary flights of fancy by that fangirl in me. Never in a million years did I imagine you entertaining that kind of thought like I did.” I drew out a long exhale and mustered all my will power to turn and face Seb. “Thank you for letting me ramble until I got that off my chest – um... I’m not saying no outright. I’m not saying yes outright either. I just... I want you to give me some time to think about it. You’re far too important as a person for me to just barrel into this without thinking. I need to get over some personal hangups first before I can give you a definite answer. Just give me time to think about it, and when you ask me again, I’d have your answer then. Is that – is that alright with you?”

 

Seb straightened up from his seat and reached out a hand to wrap around my wrist. He silently tugged me closer to him until my side was pressed tightly against his as he wrapped an arm around my waist. I felt him press a kiss to my temple, murmuring all the while, “I understand. Take your time and I’ll wait for you. You can give me your decision whenever you’re ready.” I pulled away from Seb slightly, the arm wrapped around my waist preventing me from moving too far away from him. “I’m not asking you to wait for me. You can date anyone if you want to.” I told him pointedly to which Seb merely shruged at and replied with, “Eh, we’ll see. You’re a tough act to follow Y/L/N.”

 

See when Seb says things like that, it’s hard for a girl to keep her composure. He’s too sweet for his own good. I, on the other hand, need to get my shit together. I don’t know whether I should be proud of myself for actually approaching this situation in such a rational manner or whether I should kick myself for not immediately agreeing to go out on a date with Seb. It’s not everyday that you get a guy to ask you out on a date, much less a guy like Seb. To be honest, I’m leaning towards the former.

I really don’t know if I’m just overthinking this but I’d rather be certain of my feelings than start seeing someone based on half assed feelings. I know that the crush I’ve had on Seb went on for ages but that doesn’t mean shit. I don’t want to date him because my curiosity as a fangirl about dating the celebrity I look up to is being projected onto my feelings. It’s not right. What if in the midst of dating Seb, I realize that we’re better off as friends? Or Seb realizes the same thing? What then? Will we be able to go back to being just friends? I don’t want to try something I’m not entirely sure about at the expense of an amazing friendship. Nope.

 

Not going to happen.

 

I’m just glad that Seb (as usual) has proved to be ever the gentleman and understood where I’m getting at. Speaking of Sebastian, as sweet as he was about giving me that side hug as a way of reassurance, I really do need to get back to those emails that I have to reply to but his damn arm around my waist won’t let me go. “Seb.” I called out to him with a nudge to his side. “Hmm?” He replied distractedly, already fully immersed in memorizing his lines from the script after our not so brief discussion. “You can let go now.” I made a show of looking at the hand at my waist which completely did the opposite of what I was telling him to do, i.e. Seb tightening his grip on me. “Dude. I still have those emails that I need to reply to. I can’t really do that glued to your side.” Without missing a beat, Seb dropped his script and leaned in front of me to reach out for my documents and laptop, dragging them closer to me. He then settled back to his seat and resumed what he was doing, wrapping his arm around me once more. “That’s not exactly what I told you to do.” I grumbled to him reluctantly resuming my work by skimming through what I have typed so far on my email to Chris. “I may be giving you time to think about it but that doesn’t mean I’m going to hold back Y/N.” Seb told me in a matter of fact tone, smirking to himself while reading his script. “I’ll charm my way into dating you if it’s the last thing I’ll do.” He looked at me sideways with a grin and a squeeze to my waist before leaning in to peck me on the temple in good humor. I rolled my eyes at his antics, trying to play off his teasing remark but deep inside I was freaking out.

 

Oh, god.

 

He’s already charming as he is. What more if he actually does it intentionally?

 

Mark my words, Sebastian Stan will be the death of me.


End file.
